


Pathology

by Tonshi



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Loki Does What He Wants, SHIELD jerks, Thor Feels, Warning: Loki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-18
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-05 16:23:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 64,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/725344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tonshi/pseuds/Tonshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After his play for power on Midgard, Loki returns to Asgard to face justice. Odin thinks him irreparably damaged, but Thor believes Eir--Goddess of Medicine--to be the key. Can she give Loki the kind of healing he needs?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Death Deals

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Marvel Characters not mine!!
> 
> This story was originally posted on Fanfiction.net. Since I have just been exposed to AO3, I decided to post here! Maybe there will be someone who enjoys it here! 
> 
> Please enjoy!

An uneasy silence had befallen Asgard. Thor's conquest on Midgard had not gone unheard of by the masses and celebrations erupted upon news of his return. When the splendid warrior returned, however, with his treacherous brother in tow the celebrations abruptly stopped. A most unsettling silence, a judging silence, took the place of their cheers.

Shocked eyes watched as Thor dragged his brother, muzzled and chained, down the sparkling halls of the palace. Though they thought themselves quiet, Thor could hear the whispers about Loki—about how they thought him dead. He could hear the rumors spreading-he could taste the speculation. Thor knew that in time all of Asgard would know of the atrocities his brother had committed on Midgard. And even though Loki deserved every disgusted glare he got, he feared for him once the Allfather heard of his return.

Looking at his brother, Thor couldn't help but feel conflicted. Every ounce of his being told him that the man he once called family was gone—replaced, instead, by a destructive monster he knew too well on Midgard. But even after all that Loki had done, everything that he had planned to do, he couldn't help but feel for him. Between all the horrors he committed, there has been some glimmers of his brother, of the real Loki, and it made him long for his brother again. It made him long for any semblance of normalcy.

As they continued their walk towards the throne room, Thor could almost see the fear in his brother's eyes. They both knew well that Allfather would not take kindly to Loki's return, and they both knew that the punishment would be of the most extreme. Giving his brother a stern, but sympathetic look, Thor pushed open the golden doors to the throne room. In front of them sat their father whose face wore the deep marks of disappointment and anger. It had seemed, even in the short time he had been on Midgard, that his father had aged greatly.

Pulling Loki forward, Thor continued down the walkway towards the throne. It was almost strange, really. The last time he had made this walk he was to be crowned king—but it was Loki and his tricks that would ruin that day. It was Loki and his tricks that brought them back today. Unlike his coronation celebration, however, this meeting with their father would not be a pleasant one.

Thor could see his mother standing at the side of his father, trying to hold back her tears. He knew not whether she was saddened by what had happened, or overwhelmed with seeing Loki alive—perhaps it was a little of both. As they approached closer, Odin stood and slammed his great scepter on the gilded floor beneath him.

Before any words were spoken, a small band of servants came and collected Loki from Thor. Violently, they dragged him off towards another place in the palace. As Thor watched Loki being dragged off, however, he couldn't help but feel powerless. Even though Loki was to be punished, Thor did not wish to see him tortured. With Loki out of his hands, he felt like he couldn't protect him…and he feared for what awaited him in the detention wing of the palace.

He feared for what Odin had ordered the guards to do.

Before his mind could race further, Thor's attention was drawn towards his father as he heard him sit back down on his throne. Kneeling, he presented his father with the tesseract, the cube that had been stolen from his chambers so long ago.

"Father, I have returned to you the tesseract." Thor sighed, "I apologize that it has taken so long to locate."

Odin took a deep breath and sent a look to Frigga. He watched as she walked down the stairs towards their son, hugged him deeply, and collected the tesseract. He could see how shaken his wife had become with their sons' return, and he knew that the conversation that was about to follow would distress her. Giving her another knowing look, she walked off towards another part of the palace—he suspected, to see Loki.

"Your efforts on Midgard, and with returning the Tesseract, are most appreciated, Thor." He said with a sad smile, "It takes a strong warrior to know when to share responsibility—to share glory. To fight along side Midgardians, to save a race you still know little of, shows how great of a king you will be. I look forward to the day when responsibility shifts to you."

Thor looked down towards the golden floor with gratitude. While he most certainly enjoyed his father's praise, he was most concerned about his father's feelings on a different matter.

"Thank you, father," he finally whispered, "But I came not to receive your kind words. I have brought Loki back home and, although he must be punished, I fear for him."

Thor looked up towards his father again, looking very much like a worried child.

"What will become of him, father?"

Odin seemed to think about the situation for a moment. The moment he heard that Loki was alive, and causing havoc at that, he had contemplated the fate of his adopted son. He had come up with many options, some of which Frigga would vehemently refuse, but he knew those options, the most severe, would be the most appropriate.

"Your brother will face torture for his crimes against Midgard." Odin remarked, "If these tortures cannot change him, if he refuses to give up his poisonous lust for power, he will be executed."

Thor could feel the breath catch in his chest; he wished not for his brother to be killed, especially after feeling the pain when he thought he had died. He knew that if Loki were to die for certain, his mother would never recover. He didn't think he would ever recover. Loki may be a monster, but Thor did not want him dead…

"Father, please." Thor finally said, getting over his shock, "Loki may be damaged, but he should not face the punishment of death."

Odin looked down at Thor curiously.

"Your brother attempted to kill you, to kill me." He explained, "He used the Bifrost to destroy most of Jotunheim, he sent an army so he could take Midgard. Your brother has killed countless people, Thor. If it were but a stranger you would not hesitate to suggest execution. Loki is no different. He is irreparably damaged. He is lucky I am even giving him a chance."

Thor looked at his father in disgust. He could understand his logic, he really could, but this was not a stranger. This was the son he had raised, this was the brother he had grown up with, this was Loki—and he couldn't believe his own father would think that way. Perhaps he still had much to learn about ruling, about a fair system. Still, he would not let Loki succumb to that fate.

"I think you wrong, father." Thor said as respectfully as he could, "Loki may be damaged, perhaps irreparably so, but I believe he is still in there. When I spoke with him in Midgard I could see, behind the anger, but for a moment…I could see my brother. I would rather see Loki rot in prison, with every effort to save him, than dead. I promise you I can save him."

Odin gave him a small laugh.

"Save him from what?" Odin questioned, "For you surely won't save him from Asgardian justice. Your brother must, and will suffer greatly."

"No." Thor corrected, "Save him from death; save him from himself. Save him from his delusions, from his imagined slights."

"So be it." Odin sighed, giving Thor a small smile; "This will be a grand lesson for you. In my youth, I too thought the best of everyone. I thought there was not a soul that could not be helped, saved…changed. Perhaps you are right about your brother, but I hope you are not so blinded by your familiar ties to see that he finds proper justice. I hope you are not so blinded that you continue a pointless journey to save him. Some people cannot be saved, Thor."

Thor gave his father a small bow before standing up and beginning his trek out of the throne room. He knew his father was right on many things, but not this. He knew what he saw on Midgard, and he was going to try and save whatever humanity was left in his brother. Failure was not an option he was willing to consider. If he failed, it would mark his brother's death.

Thor didn't want that blood on his hands.


	2. Seeking Council

Blue eyes stared out towards the rest of Asgard, their pools reflecting the gilded splendor below them. From his chambers, Thor could see so much of the beauty of Asgard—the gardens, the statues, the still lakes and broken Bifrost. It all emanated a glorious grandeur and yet… 

All he could think of was his brother. 

He closed his eyes as he remembered the night before—how he took the long trek to the detention wing of the palace only to stop before he could open the door. His hand rested on the elegant door, about to open it, but then he heard it: a guttural scream from his brother. Thor did not want to think of what horrors father had ordered Loki to endure, but from the screams that echoed through the halls and haunted his sleep they were severe. 

Putting his head in his hands, he just let out a defeated sigh. He felt like a coward, running away from the sight of his brother. But as he lost himself in thought, he couldn't help but wonder if his father had been right after all? If the screams were any indication of the tortures Loki would endure for the entirety of his life, death may be the sweeter option. A sickening feeling made its way through his body as he even entertained the thought. He wished not for his brother to die. 

Before he could think further, however, Thor was interrupted by a small knock on his door. Turning around, he gave a small smile towards his visitor—his mother. As he went to stand up, Frigga waved her hand to dismiss him. Instead, she sat on his bed with him, looking out of his window to enjoy the glorious view. Thor knew, however, that while her face held a smile, her eyes betrayed her true melancholy. 

"I am pleased that you and your brother are home, Thor." She whispered, still looking out the window, "Your father has been most disturbed with both of your absences. As have I." 

Thor grabbed his mother's hand and gave her a small smile. Finally turning towards him, she returned the gesture. Thor noticed how old she now looked, the wrinkles encroaching on the once youthful face that was the envy of many. Perhaps the events that had since transpired had truly aged his parents. The marks of their worry were far too apparent. 

"You look as if you have slept not, dear." She remarked, seeing the tired eyes of her son, "Are you not well?" 

"I am well, mother." Thor explained, "Though it looks as if I could ask you the same question. I would not be shocked if we were denied sleep for similar reasons." 

Frigga looked at her son painfully before distracting herself the view from his window again. 

"I know that well, Thor." She whispered, "I went to see your brother last night and…the things he said, the way he spoke, the way he looked…that was not my son." 

Thor could see his mother's blue eyes start to glisten as she spoke of Loki. She looked to be thinking, trying to find the right words to say, and failing. He watched her curiously as she grabbed his hand harder, trying to pull some of his strength. In all his years he had never seen the powerful queen look so broken. 

"He blames me, and your father." She muttered, voice shaking, "I wanted nothing more than to love him as my own. I thought I had done that…I tried so hard to treat you both equally, to never make him question my love for him. I never thought him a monster, I just saw my son. But what has replaced Loki _is_ a monster…thirsting for revenge. Against me." 

Thor took his mother into a hug as she wept silently. He could feel her small hands grab his clothing in pain as the warmth of her tears fell on his shoulders. Her voice was ragged and scared—as if what she spoke would be true. He could hear in her voice that she desperately wanted none of it to be true. 

"He said he hated me." 

Thor looked at his heartbroken mother and held on to her hands, looking into her eyes and giving her the most reassuring smile he could fake. 

"Know that I will always love you, Mother." He smiled, "Loki may be lost, but know that what he says are empty words. I know him to love you dearly." 

Thor knew that what he told her was a lie, but he could see that it made her feel just slightly better. He smiled as she gave him a small hug before letting out a defeated sigh. Her blue eyes, so much like his, looked at him once again. 

"I worry for you, Thor." She admitted, "What troubles you?" 

Thor stood up, not wanting his mother to see his worry. Standing in front of his window, he just let out a small sigh, his hands held behind him. He did not want to trouble his mother with his own burdens, but he knew he didn't have a choice. In all his contemplation, he could not think of a solution—he could not think of anything that would make Loki better. Perhaps her wisdom could be of use. 

"Father wishes for Loki to be executed." Thor explained, trying not to show the panic in his voice, "I think him wrong, Mother. I told father I would try to save Loki—that I could bring my brother back yet—I know not how. Loki will not speak with me. He thinks he has been forced to live in my shadow and resents me for it. Nothing I can say will change him. I have given myself an impossible task and my brother's life is in the balance. I want not his death on my hands." 

Thor could feel his mother's panic in the silence that came after. He didn't know if she knew of Odin's plans, but he knew that she would agree with his disagreement of them. Finally, after a long silence, she spoke. 

"Your brother needs to be healed in the most desperate way," she said, almost as if she was thinking aloud, "I…I know not if that is a grand idea. Forget I said anything." 

Thor turned around and looked at his mother. She looked to be pondering a thought with all her might, yet she seemed skeptical. It was rare that his mother questioned her own judgment, her own thoughts. If she had any ideas to save Loki, he didn't want her to sit pondering to herself about them. 

"Mother please." He begged, "I know not if anything would work, but if there is even a chance…" 

"If I sought out lightning, Thor, I would seek your council." She explained, "I pray you can follow my thoughts." 

Thor looked at his mother as if she was ludicrous. He gave her a small laugh before pacing back and forth, half considering her suggestion. He knew that is mother had meant he seek out Eir, Asgard's greatest healer. 

"I think Eir not the wisest person to call, Mother." He explained, shocked she even suggested it, "Eir may be gifted in the healing arts, but I know her thoughts towards Loki are not pleasant. I fear…past events will bar her from helping him." 

Frigga looked at Thor and gave him a sad smile. Standing up, she put her hands on his shoulders and stopped him from his pacing. She could see the questioning in his eyes after her suggestion. Eir was possible of unbelievable acts of healing, and if anyone could help Loki it would be her. But she understood her son's uncertainty; Eir was very intimidating, and held on to grudges. 

"I think Eir the best choice, Thor." She smiled, "If I knew a better healer I would have suggested them. Eir…is very gifted. I pray you can convince her." 

Thor gave his mother a small, childish smile. 

"Oh, why can't you?" he laughed, "I wish not to anger her. Besides, you—" 

"Thor," Frigga interrupted with a small smile, "She fancies me not, I think. She may be one of my handmaidens, but that does not mean she is particularly fond of me. Though I have, admittedly, asked too much of her at times." 

Thor looked at his mother with an unspoken understanding. Eir had been asked to do many things in her time under the royal family, many that were not particularly pleasant, but he hoped that despite all of that, she would help Loki. 

"Alright," he sighed, "I will seek her council." 

* * *

Golden eyes looked down at fixed ones below. Death had come swiftly for her most recent patient, a foolish Asgaridan who meddled with the wrong elves on Svartalfheim. Looking down at her hands, she noticed her pale skin had taken on a deep burgundy from her attempts at healing his extensive wounds. It was futile, really—he was lucky he survived the trip back. 

Putting her bloodied fingers on his eyelids, she closed them in respect and said a small prayer. She didn't know where this would-be soldier's spirit would end up, but she hopes for his sake it was not Helheim. She had brought back a few people who had seen sights of it, and the horrors they saw were unsettling. 

Before she could clean her station, however, her eyes widened for a moment. She was no warrior, but she knew when she was being snuck up on. From the large, deep noise the footstep made she had a fairly good guess as to who her approached was, too. Taking a deep breath, she started to wipe off her bloody hands. 

"What do you need, Thor?" she asked with a tone of bitterness in her voice, "Expecting me to celebrate your return? Sorry, I don't have flowers." 

Thor furrowed his brow as he approached the goddess. Her back was turned to him, purposely ignoring his gaze, and she was washing her dark red hands. As he approached, he noticed a body on the table; a mangled one at that, and it sickened him to see her cleaning herself idly as if her job was finished. 

"Can you not raise the dead, Eir?" he questioned, looking at the dead man, "Does he not deserve your magic?" 

Finally, Eir turned to him. Her golden eyes, much like Heimdall's, unsettled him. They were a special trait in Asgard, whose bearers could see things that most Asgardian's couldn't. Heimdall was blessed, perhaps cursed, with a sight to see into far realms unknown. Eir was given the ability to see beyond the boundaries of life and death. It was perhaps, because of that, she was a great healer. 

"If I saved everyone, Thor, what would Asgard learn?" she asked looking towards the body, "That it is commendable to march into Svartalfheim, seeking trouble with the dark elves? Of course not; tragedies must happen for learning to take place." 

Thor took a deep breath as she cleaned further. There was a silence between them for too long that disturbed him. He watched as she moved the body out of the healing room, and cleaned up the blood that had spilled on the floor. If he had not known her, he would think the sight strange. Eir, having grown up under the close eyes of his father, was every bit royal looking—but she had been given a gift that kept her in the most vile, tragic, and dark places Asgard had to offer. It showed, in her bitterness. She had seen so much death and pain…he supposed he shouldn't judge her coldness. 

"Would you not save me if I had befallen tragedy, Eir?" 

The woman gave him a small laugh before continuing her work. 

"Of course I would save you, Thor." She said almost bitterly, "I am bound to the royal family. You could be mangled beyond recognition and yet I would be expected to use my magic, even if it killed me, to save you. Those are the perks of being royalty, Thor. No matter what idiotic act you committed, I would be expected to save you." 

Thor looked to the ground and suddenly felt bad. He felt unsettled that, by virtue of his birth, he was granted a privilege that the man on the table had been denied. Shaking the thought out of his head, he decided to address the matter he came to her for. 

"Loki is alive, Eir." He said, changing the subject, "Though he has done some…regrettable things." 

He watched as she stopped her work for a moment and looked towards him. Her eyes showed a number of emotions that he was sure contained a mixture of shock, anger and confusion. She finally stopped her work and sat down, putting her hand on her forehead in thought. Thor watched silently, unsure if this thoughtfulness was a good sign or not. 

"And this news…of what importance is it for me?" she questioned, almost asking herself, "I care not what Loki has done. I care not that he still lives." 

"Not for long, I think." Thor remarked, leaning against the now clean healing bed, "Father wants him executed for his crimes. I will not allow it, though. I told father I could heal whatever damage has befallen his mind and—" 

"But you can't," Eir interrupted, "So you came here…to appeal to me? You made a deal with your father that you can't fulfill. How typical. Of what do I owe Loki? If I am not mistaken, he is not of Asgard or your true kin. I owe him nothing." 

Thor looked at the anger in her eyes that had replaced the shock. In his heart, he had a sick feeling that their meeting would go like this. Eir was not fond of Loki for many reasons, but he didn't want the past to destroy Loki's future. He didn't want the grudges Eir liked to keep kill his brother. 

"For me, Eir." He whispered, looking at her, "I don't want to lose my brother again. You know what it is like to lose someone…I want not to suffer that pain." 

Eir looked at him with questioning eyes before shaking her head in defeat. Standing up, she walked over to Thor and looked at him with her eyes that unsettled him greatly. She could tell that he was telling the truth, even if she couldn't understand why anyone would want Loki alive. Perhaps it was a brotherly thing…she never was blessed with siblings, so what did she know of those workings? 

"Fine, Thor." She agreed, "But the pathologies of the mind are most difficult to fix. At times, even with my magic, they are irreparable. You have to be ready to accept the worse scenario." 

Thor looked at her and gave her a small smile. 

"All I ask is for you to try." He explained, "Thank you, Eir." 

With that, he left leaving the woman to wonder what she just agreed to, and why she agreed to do it. 

It was going to be a task she would most despise. 

  



	3. Fear

Frigga looked out on the balcony of her's and Odin's royal chambers towards the gardens. It had been raining all day in Asgard, and the grey skies mirrored a mood that she could not shake. Ever since her conversation with Thor, she had been unsettled. At night, she would lay awake crying—making sure her husband couldn't see her—as she heard the echoes of her son's screams through the palace. She could not bear to know Loki was in pain, despite all of his atrocities, he was still her youngest—her son. 

And yet, she felt powerless to help. He would not allow her to visit him; her husband would not hear her reason, and seeing Thor upset only increased her pain. She felt more alone than ever. None in Asgard could understand her pain; for she felt sorry for the man all of Asgard now despised…she truly loved the boy they all hated, spoke ill of…who all of Asgard wanted dead. 

Taking a sigh, she focused her thoughts to a small figure running in the rain. She could hear the small frantic footsteps as they ran, trying to make their way out of the rain and into the palace. Listening, she could hear the sweet chiming of the water as footsteps met puddles, and it pained her to remember all the times her children would play in the rain. For a brief second, though, the figure looked up, dark hair stark against their pale skin and golden eyes meeting her blue. Giving the figure a small smile, she watched as Eir continued her trek towards the entrance of the palace, holding a hood over her head. 

Letting out a small laugh, Frigga had to credit Thor. Truthfully, she thought it would take an executive command from her to get Eir to comply, so she was shocked when she heard Thor had gained her word. Thinking of her most important servant, she wondered how her son had appealed to her? Eir was not known for giving mercy, despite her abilities, especially to those who have committed wrongs. Eir worked through a set of strict morality rules, saving those who had only proven themselves worthy, so she was surprised she agreed to heal the greatest threat to Asgard. 

Smiling to herself, Frigga wondered if Eir hoped to heal more than just Loki's mind. 

* * *

Thor waited at the entrance of the palace watching as a figure ran towards him, holding a hood tightly over her head to avoid getting wet. As she made it to the door, she gave him a small smile. Thor noticed that she looked out of breath, as if she had run across the city, perhaps making a house call to someone in Asgard's main complex. It was not uncommon for her to be summoned to the dying, families praying for her skill, praying for her to heal sickness that sometimes ravaged families. 

He watched as she put her hood down, and gave Thor a quizzical look as she discarded her soaked cloak to a servant nearby. Giving her a nod, she started to follow him down the gilded hallways of the palace. Trying to break the silence, she looked up towards the prince and gave him a small laugh. 

"Are you not the God of Thunder and storms, Thor?" she questioned, "It is quite horrible out there, could you not have just cast it away?" 

Thor looked down at the Goddess and gave her a smirk. 

"If I cast off every storm," he started, "What would Asgard learn? Unpleasant weather must happen to appreciate the fair." 

Glaring her eyes at his knowingly, she knew he was mimicking her. Ignoring the prince for a moment, she focused on the hall ahead of her and all the glares from visitors. It was not often that Thor sought her help, nor was it often that she strayed from Frigga's side. Luckily for her, the queen had given her a leave—generous for her word to help Loki. Though she had been at the service of the queen since she was barely out of childhood, she had never seen her as shaken as she had a few days ago. Her heartbreak for Loki was painfully apparent. 

"He has not let anyone see him." Thor commented, breaking her out of her thoughts, "Loki wishes not to speak to anyone. Not my mother, not me, not Sigyn…" 

Thor noticed Eir focusing ahead of her more intensely, seemingly ignoring him. Furrowing his brow, he continued talking to her. 

"I know not how he will take to me bringing you." He explained, "I want you to know if you don't feel safe you can—" 

"I'm fine, Thor." She muttered, looking at him for a moment, "With great knowledge of the human body and its workings comes the ability to heal and harm. I trust your brother knows this." 

Nodding towards her, they continued their descent deeper into the palace until they were met with a large, elegant door. From the looks of it, it seemed to be impossibly heavy, and beautifully adorned. If Eir had not known this to be door to the detention chambers, she would have thought it a door to somewhere more regal. Outside the door stood two guards, each with helmets that marked their nobility and importance to the security of the palace. In each of their hands were spears that were made to kill. 

Looking up at Thor, she could see the heartbreak in his eyes as a guttural scream echoed through the room. Eir knew the sounds well—she had known many Asgardians who came to her screaming in a similar fashion. It was of a pain so severe, many begged her for death—for it to be over. Though she hated him, hearing Loki's desperate screams sent something shivering down her spine. She was suddenly very scared to see the scene she would be met with. 

Breaking her and Thor out of their thoughts, the door suddenly opened to reveal a man cleaning a bloodied knife. Thor's eyes widened at the amount of blood on the man's arms and clothes. Eir watched as Thor's face went white with the realization that it was his brother's blood that dirtied the man, the torturer. Seeing Thor's hesitation, Eir put a small hand on her arm and gave him a fake smile. 

"It will be alright, Thor." She whispered, "Please." 

Looking at the woman below him, he noticed she was lying. Her eyes betrayed her, and showed a fear he knew mimicked his. He could see that she was giving him a false smile, her bottom lip trembling ever so slightly as she grabbed onto him. Taking a deep breath, he sent a look to both of the guards and took his first few steps into the dark room behind the door. 

Though the door expressed a sense of elegance, the room the two walked into was the opposite. The floor was not of gold, but of a cold stone, and the only light in the room came from a few lights that did little to illuminate the room. As his eyes adjusted, Thor could start to see the outline of a cell—the dirty bars creeping out of the darkness like ghosts. In the background, he could hear the faint dripping of water and the soft breathing of a being in the far back of the room. 

Walking closer, he could see Loki's shadow emerge from the dark. Looking at his brother, he could feel his heart start to race as his features became more apparent in the dim lighting. He was chained, the shackles cutting into his him in what looked like an infected ring around his wrists. From his hands, he could see a trail of blood creating river patterns down his arms…his fingernails missing. 

Holding back a gasp, he could feel Eir's hand on his arm once again. In a moment, though the scene remained unchained, his shock started to dissipate. Looking down at the shorter woman, she just gave him a sad smile as she used her subtle magic to calm him. Walking closer, he noticed that Loki's green eyes were fixated on him, looking as if they had not slept in days. 

"Brother…" Thor started, hesitantly "I—" 

Before he could finish, Loki emitted a laugh that startled Thor. In his brother's smile, he could see that he was missing several teeth and dried blood rested at the corners of his crazed grin. Hearing the rattle of metal on stone, he watched as Loki sat himself up to better see his visitors. 

"Fancy what you see, Thor?" Loki smiled, "Is this not what you wanted?" 

Thor examined his brother further, his heartbeat pounding in his head. The ragged clothes he had been given were covered in blood and dirt. A small bucket of water lay in the corner of the cell, all the drink he was allowed, along with remnants of food much too scarce. His brother's form had grown even slimmer, his body looking sickly. When he tried to speak, he could only feel his breath catching in his chest. 

"No," Thor finally managed to whisper, "Loki, I only ever wanted my brother back." 

Again, Thor watched as his brother emitted a laugh that was seemingly primal. His blue eyes watched as his brother stood up, shakily, and walked the length of his cell in a manner that reminded Thor of a caged animal. 

"I'm not your brother!" he hissed, "I don't want your pity I…" 

Thor noticed his brother stop in his cell, his green eyes widen and focus in the darkness. With a sick grin, he walked towards the edge of the cage and put his bloodied hands on the bars. After a moment, Thor realized he was looking at Eir who was keeping herself in the shadows as much as possible. Looking into his brother's eyes, he could see a disgusting satisfaction as he looked the Goddess over. 

"I have brought Eir, Loki." Thor hesitated again, "I wish for her to heal you." 

Loki gave another broken smile towards the woman and laughed, green eyes never leaving her gold. Looking at Eir, Thor noticed a fear that far surpassed his own. In the silence, he could hear her hitched breathing as Loki looked at her with a seemingly insatiable hunger. 

"Oh, this will be fun." Loki smirked, "I have so missed making play of such pathetic minds." 

Glaring his eyes at his brother, Thor slammed his hand on the cell startling the prisoner. With another grin, Loki put his hands up in defeat and met his brother's scornful eyes. Thor could see as his anger rose, Loki's satisfaction grew. He knew that he was giving Loki exactly what he wanted by becoming upset. Despite his pain, Thor took a deep breath and put a hand on Eir's shoulder. 

"Brother, please." Thor whispered, in a calming manner, "I have brought her here to heal you, not to be tormented. If you place a hand on her-if the guards hear her scream-I will feel no remorse when they kill you." 

Loki simply sent an amused look towards his brother as he went to sit back down in a corner of his cell, never taking his predatory eyes off of the two. Looking at the woman besides him, Thor sent her a worried glance. Her eyes looked at his, betraying her, as she gave him a small smile. 

"All is well, Thor." She lied, "Please, I can see your pain. Leave." 

Thor sent a warning glance to his grinning brother before giving the woman a grateful smile and leaving. Eir could see Loki's eyes squint as the door opened, revealing light from the hallway that was much too bright, before focusing on her again. Looking the banished prince over, her stomach turned as she catalogued the damages his body had taken. Her keen medical eyes saw much more than Thor could, and—perhaps for his sake—that was for the best. 

Walking closer to the edge of the cell, she noticed his infected wrists, stab wounds and lacerations. They riddled his body, like grotesque designs, full of sickness. His long fingers showed signs of forced nail extraction and breaks, and his grin was agape with teeth that had been forcibly extracted. Though the prince was free to roam his cage now, the darkness under his eyes suggested that he had been forced to remain awake and consume very little. Eir knew Asgardian torture practices well; Loki was getting the whole package. 

Letting out a sigh, she took a seat on the cold stone floor and watched as the God of Mischief's eyes flickered in the darkness. She knew he was probably aching with exhaustion, and almost felt bad that she was here, keeping him awake. Hearing his shackles move slightly, she looked on as he sat himself up more and gave her a smile. 

"I knew you would come." He whispered, "Thor's guilt is palpable, I knew he would seek you out to try and correct what wrongs have been done. Though I think he wished not for you just to heal my wounds." 

Eir avoided his glance by focusing on the material of her dress. She was almost startled at how quickly he picked up on Thor's intentions. Giving him a glance, she watched as he gave a large yawn—his jaw giving a sickening crack—and laid his head against the wall, losing his battle against sleep. 

"Loki, let me heal you." She finally managed to whisper, holding out a hand, "Your jaw is broken, please…" 

To her surprise, he sent a scornful look towards her. Standing up abruptly, she watched as she paced his cell again in anger. His shackles banged loudly against the stones as he walked, and his breathing was ragged. Looking at her, he simply gave her a crooked smile and narrowed his eyes. She knew her eyes betrayed her panic, and as her heart beat faster she knew it pleased him. 

"Loki, I—" 

Her body jumped as he punched the cell in anger, sending a loud crash through the quiet room. She watched as his broken hands grabbed the cell the best they could, bleeding the harder he grabbed. 

"I don't need your help!" he screamed, "I don't need Thor's pity!" 

Eir looked at his hateful eyes and could feel her chest tightening. She felt like a helpless animal, trapped by the hunter, without a means of escape. Though her body wanted to scream, she felt paralyzed as she watched him pace anxiously. Before she could catch her breath again, she felt a rush of wind followed by two greedy eyes. Trying to breath, her eyes just widened as bloody hands came a grabbed her cheeks forcefully. 

"Do it. Scream." He growled, "The guards will be here in a moment, Eir. My blood can be on your hands. Just what you want." 

Loki watched as her eyes just stared at his in fear. He could see silver tears forming in the corners of her eyes and stinging against his wounds. Smiling to himself, he got a satisfaction as her breathing quickened and her heartbeat audibly raced. Squeezing her cheeks harder, he smiled as she silently cried at the pain—and it excited him so. 

"You best think again before agreeing to something my idiot _brother_ suggests, Eir." He whispered, enjoying the warm tears on is hand, "Your magic won't work on me, you wretched whore." 

Eir closed her eyes before bringing a hand up and grabbing his outstretched arm. As quick as she grabbed him, his eyes widened in horror as his wounds began to fester and a bright pain consumed him. Letting out a hiss, he released her and watched as she ran towards the door. Letting out another sick cackle, he gave her another predatory glare before she vanished though his door to freedom. With a smile on his face, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead on the bars in front of him. 

She would be back. 


	4. Insomnia

Bloodied rags littered the floor as Eir stared at herself blankly in the mirror. She could feel her heart race as she wiped the blood-Loki's blood- off of her face; a remnant from their last visit. She cringed as she remembered how his cold, bleeding hands felt as they grabbed her cheeks viscously, spitting lies and hate in her face. As she cleaned her face, she could already feel the bruises forming from his attack. They stung, of course, but not as much as his words had. 

Looking at her eyes in the mirror, she couldn't help but remember his; they were full of so much pain and hatred towards everyone. Her heart raced as she remembered seeing her frightened reflection in them, and how much pleasure he seemed to gain from her pain. It was a drastic change from the Loki she once knew, and it terrified her. Looking into the eyes of the beast made her wonder if her abilities could be of any use—perhaps the Allfather was right after all. 

Touching her bruised cheeks again, she cursed silently at her inability to heal herself. There were many times she wished she was granted the same easy fix she gave everyone else, and this was certainly one of them. Grabbing some make-up on her vanity, she began the delicate process of covering up her marks. The last thing she wanted was Odin to know what his son had done. As much as she hated Loki, she did not want to see his prematurely executed before she could attempt her magic. If Odin saw how she looked now, if he could see the blood on the floor, Loki would most certainly be dead. 

"And what is all this mess?" 

Dropping the make-up on the floor, Eir was startled as she saw the Queen's reflection in her vanity mirror. Falling to her knees, she gave a humble bow to the woman who stood before her with a questioning glance. Eir could feel her heart beating as the glass vile of makeup rolled across the floor creating a mess with the bloodied cloth. Turning her golden eyes to meet the Queen's blue, she gave an apologetic smile. 

"I am sorry, your highness." She apologized, "I didn't hear you enter my chambers." 

Eir watched with curiosity as the Queen walked around her room. While not impressive, as a servant bound to the royal family she was granted a small living quarter in the lower parts of the palace as payment for her required duties. On more than one occasion, she was called in the dead of night to respond to the many medical emergencies the royals had. With her in close proximity, none of Asgard had to know of their medical slights or weaknesses. 

Turning her attention to the Queen again, she watched as she bent over and picked up one of the bloodied cloths that lined the room. Breathing quicker, Eir could feel her anxiety rise as the Queen walked back over towards her and put her hand under her chin, examining her face. Cringing, she tried to keep a strong composure as Frigga grabbed her bruised cheeks—not yet fully concealed. 

"This blood is not your own." She remarked, pushing away some of the make-up on her face, "But this most certainly is the work of my son." 

Eir looked towards the ground, avoiding Frigga's glare. 

"No, Milady, it was my own doing." She lied, "Upon my return to my chambers, I took a regretful fall. Though terrible, I was fortunate not a soul saw my folly." 

Frigga looked down at the girl again. Her eyes glowed with deception, vaguely reminiscent of her son, but she decided to let it pass. Motioning Eir to her vanity again, she watched as the girl hesitantly walked over and sat in the chair. She watched as the young woman's chest rose quickly, in a nervous fashion, as she picked up some jewelry on the wooden structure. 

"Lofn told me you had returned," Frigga remarked, looking at a curious golden necklace, "I thought I would help you prepare for the day and inquire about Loki's health." 

Eir looked at the queen in her vanity mirror with a puzzled look on her face. Rarely, did she speak with her on matters other than her royal duties as a medic or handmaiden and when she did…well, they were never pleasant conversations. Taking a deep breath, she watched as the queen grabbed the strings to her corset and started to tie them in the back. Keeping a watchful eye on the queen, she began to speak. 

"Milady, Loki's mind is far a field." She sighed, "The wounds he has been dealt have destroyed much of what we knew of him." 

Eir looked at her eyes in the mirror as she thought back to earlier that day. She could still smell the dirt and blood in his cell. She could still feel the way his eyes stalked her. She could still feel her heart racing as he paced in his cage, ready to pounce. In her head, she could still hear his cackling, his troubled breathing and his cracking jaw. She could still see his bloodied fingers, broken bones and incomplete scowl. The senses and sights stung like an open wound, impossible to fix. What he had been dealt had indeed destroyed much of the Loki she once knew, who Frigga once knew, but she didn't have the heart to tell her Queen that her son had been replaced by an irreparable monstrosity. 

"But," Eir lied again, "Thor has not just wishful thinking. Extensive magic could bring Loki back. I know not if I possess such a skill, but taken as he is a Prince of Asgard, I will try my best." 

Golden eyes watched as the woman behind her smiled and continued to give the corset more tugs. Looking ahead, Eir couldn't help but feel like she was at the Queen' mercy. Her breathing caught in her throat as the corset became tighter. Cringing, the woman knew the queen was not half done with the stiches. 

"I thank you for your consult, Eir." Frigga remarked, looking at the woman's eyes in the mirror, "I have often asked too much of you, and I cannot help but feel remorseful that this is, perhaps, the most difficult task I have given you." 

Frigga looked down as the woman gave a small laugh under her breath. 

"This compares not to more painful orders." 

Grabbing the table, Eir let out a small cry as Frigga pulled her corset painfully tight. Looking at the anger in the Queen's eyes, Eir cursed her mouth for letting her feelings slip out. Letting silent tears fall, she closed her eyes as Frigga continued to lace the garment painfully, each string getting unbearably restrictive. Holding on to the table tighter, she held her breath as the queen began to lace the last strings. 

"It was for the good of Asgard, Eir." Frigga spat, "We have _all_ had to make sacrifices." 

Turning the young woman around, Frigga glared as she just kept her golden eyes fixated on the ground. She could see the small tear stains adorning her bruised cheeks, but she paid them no mind. Looking closer, she could see her broken lips and bitten nails—a true mess. If she had not the talents she did, she would have no trouble removing her from the palace. Starting to walk out, she sent the woman one last look before exiting the room. 

"Your duties to me come first." She ordered, "My son comes after." 

* * *

Green eyes fluttered as the assaulting light from the hallway left his dim containment cell. The torturer for the day had just left, leaving him with a number of painful whips across his back. Letting out a shuddering sigh, Loki placed his head against the stone wall and stared at the ceiling—watching curious spiders crawl their way back to their nests. Closing his eyes, Loki couldn't help but cringe at the pain. He had not slept since his return to Asgard, not a consequence of some torture—no. It was a consequence of his dreams. 

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw him; "The Other's" words haunted his would be slumber. Whenever his mind would drift, the alien's slithering words invaded his every sense. His heart beat faster as he thought of Thanos finding him, seeking him out and making him suffer. He knew well that Thanos had the power to do unimaginable harm to him for his failures, and just the thought made him sick. The insomnia, the worrying, and the constant fear—it was much worse than any torture Odin could concoct. 

Loki couldn't remember a time when he was more desperate for slumber. It was desperation for peace, not a mind filled with images of his own demise, images of murder and the echoes of screams that he wished not to hear. It was a paralyzing nightmare, invading every facet of his psyche, and he never wished more that he had succeeded on Midgard. Not only for the glory, but to avoid the half-life he was now forced to live. For he knew they would come—Thanos and The Other never made empty threats. 

He just didn't know when. 

Looking up at the ceiling again he let out a pained groan as his wounds came into contact with the cold, dirty wall. For his sake, he hoped that Eir failed in Thor's childish attempts to salvage his mind. Odin's planned execution for him would spare him the horrors he knew Thanos could provide. He knew that, in those types of punishments, even his soul would not survive. 

He hoped Eir failed indeed. 

* * *

"What are you making?" Thor asked, walking up to Eir, "It looks repulsive." 

Eir gave Thor a strong glance before concentrating on her mortar and pestle again. After her duties to the Queen had been fulfilled, she had decided to walk to the royal gardens to gather some supplies. Though beautiful, the royal gardens were a treasure trove for medicinal plants which were both beautiful and beneficial. Passerby's knew nothing of their power, and it was obvious Thor didn't either. 

"It will actually taste fairly descent, I think." She remarked, adding some raspberries, "Your brother is far too dangerous at the moment to attempt more powerful magic, but a herbal remedy is often just as good." 

Thor looked down at the substance in the small stone bowl again and cringed. It was an unappealing green color that smelled of bad perfume. He had watched her pick, what seemed like, the whole garden and put it in the small bowl to create the disaster he saw before him. Starting to put his finger in the bowl, Eir stopped him. 

"You don't want to taste it, Thor." She explained cautiously, "What your brother craves most is sleep. I know not if your father has ordered him to stay awake as a torture, or if it is a dangerous insomnia, but this powerful anesthetic should help." 

Thor gave her a nod of understanding before turning his head and smiling. Looking up from her work, she noticed a fair woman walking towards them. If Thor was the Asgardian ideal of beauty, the woman walking towards them certainly was the female equivalent. Curvaceous, white-blond hair with crystal blue eyes, the woman walking towards them was everything Eir was not. She gave the woman a small, envious smile as she approached before focusing again on her mixture. 

"Lady Sigyn, how pleased I am to see you!" Thor bellowed, engulfing the woman in an embrace, "I have not seen you since my return. I pray my brother's betrothed is well?" 

"As well as I can be, dear Thor." She sighed, "Oft I have tried to visit Loki, but I cannot bear to see what I know lies behind that door. Your mother has told me the terrible things he has said. Out betrothal is young, Thor. I wish not to hear those words directed at me!" 

Eir could feel a sickening feeling in her stomach as she watched Thor sympathetically hug Sigyn as she cried softly on his shoulder. She was never fond of the woman, and thought her and Loki were an ill match. She knew not why the Queen had chosen Sigyn to be Loki's betrothed other than the fact that she was beautiful. It certainly wasn't because she would make a smart or wise queen… 

"There are whispers that you can cure him, Eir." Sigyn finally remarked, looking at the goddess, "I pray to you! I want not this monster to be my husband!" 

Sending the woman another fake smile, she simply handed the stone cup to her. She watched as Sigyn's perfect features crinkled into a disgust as she looked into the cup. Raising the substance to her nose, she cringed again and sent a horrified look towards the Goddess of Medicine. 

"What is this vile thing?" she hissed, "Not for me, I hope!" 

Eir looked at the woman blankly before squinting her eyes a little. 

"For Loki, Lady Sigyn." She explained, "I trust you will visit him tonight. After all, it would look rather questionable if you wished not to see him. A sign of weakness in a future princess? The Queen would most certainly reconsider this arrangement." 

Thor watched as Sigyn glared her stunning blue eyes at Eir's equaling stunning gold. Finally, he watched as Sigyn whispered a quick and insincere 'thank you' to Eir before strutting off. Thor could hear her angry footsteps for some time in the distance, and shook his head. The two had bad blood between them, he noticed, and he wondered if it went further than their mutual jealously towards each other. Turning towards Eir, he gave her an apologetic smile. 

"Thank you again, Eir." He whispered, "I pray too. I want not this monster to be my brother. I know you will succeed where others could not." 

Giving her a nod, he walked off towards the palace. Eir watched as Thor walked off, leaving her alone to the gardens again. Letting out a sigh, she looked at the small pestle in her hand. At the end, it bore the remnants of her insomnia remedy—thick and green. Smiling to herself, she replaced it in her medicine pocked carefully, and stared her march back to her chambers. 

She was going to need a little help to sleep tonight. 

* * *

Further out into space, much farther than Asgard, beings were far from restful. Walking up a slithering staircase, a six fingered hand steadied the figure it belonged to. Breathing heavily, and gazing through a twisting facial mask, the being gave a small smile towards the much larger one before it. 

"He has returned to Asgard, my Lord." They hissed, walking closer to the large throne, "How splendid, really. After a pathetic bought on that mortal world, he was brought back to a rather convenient place. Odin's treasure chambers have not only the tesseract, as you are well aware." 

The Other watched with pleasure as he could see his master giving him a sinister smile, urging him to go on. 

"If it is Asgard we invade, you can reclaim all that is yours…" The Other explained, "…and punish that pathetic Asgardian for his incompetence." 

Finally, turning his throne around Thanos looked down at the bowing alien with contentment. Their befallen ally had found himself contained in the most convenient of locations. By invading Asgard, he would finally regain all that was stolen from him. Asgard, for all its glory, couldn't compete with the power he wielded…and when he wielded it on Asgard, against that incapable fool that his trusted… 

They would _all_ pay for his sins. 


	5. Silent Killer

Thor stood quietly on the edge of the Bifrost looking down into the darkness. It had been over a year since its destruction, and Asgard was no closer to finding a fix for it than they were a year ago. Looking over its jagged edge, he couldn't help but remember how his brother looked staring back at him—so desperate for their father's approval—only to let go. Thinking about it made him sick, and yet he wondered if it would have been better for everyone had he truly been lost. So many Midgardians had perished, so much destruction was had and yet… 

Those warriors he fought with, those Avengers, had become brothers in arms. He had made so many allies on Midgard, he thought, perhaps, there was a silver lining to the cloud of destruction his brother had brought. The tesseract had given Midgardian scientists, like Selvig, new hope to finding an easier bridge to connect both worlds—a bridge to Jane. 

"You can see her still, Heimdall?" he asked as he heard the man walk up behind him, "It pains me, being so far away." 

Thor watched as the golden-clad man gave him a smile. His extraordinary eyes, much like Eir's looked down at him with a warm, knowing sense. 

"Of course," he replied, his voice deep, "She seems to sleep not. Her quest to bring you back to Midgard is much too important." 

Heimdall watched as Thor gave him a sad smile. Since coming back from his most recent stint on Midgard, Thor's longing for Jane only grew. In all his years of knowing the prince, he had never seen him so infatuated with a woman. He had watched Jane foster from his place on the bridge, but even after observing the mortal he still knew not what Thor saw in her. She was inferior to Asgardian women in appearance, certainly, but her mind was sharp—something he knew Thor not to value in a woman. Perhaps he saw something he, even with all his powers, could not. 

"I am certain Lady Jane will find a way, Thor." He remarked, trying to reassure the sad man beside him, "Few Asgardians can match her mind." 

Heimdall watched as Thor gave him a thankful glance before looking down into the abyss of space again. He could tell that he had much more than Jane on his mind. His gold eyes watched as Thor walked a little closer to the edge, and looked farther down. As terrifying as the drop was, it was a beauty unmatched. 

"I worry for my brother," Thor admitted, "When I speak with him, I see an unwavering fear in his eyes. Eir knows not what bothers him, and even if she did well…I know her to lie as much as him." 

Heimdall gave Thor an uncomfortable knowing look. It had been troubling him, too—what Loki feared. While he was blinded to their presence, much like the Frost Giants that had attacked a year ago, he could sense the painful evil that these beings possessed. Loki had made some regrettable deals during his time traversing the realms, and he feared that they would come for him on Asgard. He knew this was what Loki feared for as well. 

"Eir truly knows not, Thor." Heimdall assured, "But I can feel what Loki fears. They want something…more than your brother. Perhaps the Allfather would know what Asgard has that would be most coveted?" 

He watched as Thor looked at him thoughtfully. 

"The tesseract?" Thor wondered aloud, "But I thought it was just a portal?" 

Heimdall gave him a questioning look before speaking again. 

"Allfather has been known to keep the truth from even his most precious," Heimdall explained, "Allfather's treasure chamber has much to be coveted…more than the tesseract, I suspect." 

With that, Heimdall watched as Thor looked at him with curiosity, his mind considering every scenario, before thanking him and walking back to the palace. Heimdall could tell by the way Thor looked that he was now worried—and rightfully so. The only chance Asgard would have against these beings would be to disown whatever they were after, and for everyone's sake he hoped Thor figured it out. 

He could sense they were running out of time. 

* * *

Eir gave a small smile to the people she passed in the palace as she walked down the long hallway from the Queen's quarters. It had been a particularly taxing day with the Queen, and she desperately hoped that Loki wouldn't lash out at her again like he had last time. She had purposely been avoiding the prince for quite some time, but Thor's constantly pleading convinced her to try again today. For Thor's sake, she had been saying Loki's prognosis was great…but the more he tried to banish everyone from his life, the harder the small lie was becoming. 

As she turned the corner, however, her thoughts on Loki were interrupted as she crashed into a mobile wall. Rubbing her head, she looked up to see that it was no other than Thor, and he looked particularly distressed. Looking up at the disjointed man, she gave him a small worried glance as he placed a hand on her shoulder. 

"My father, do you know where he is?" he asked quickly, "I must speak with him urgently." 

Eir gave him another worried look. 

"In his chambers, I believe." She explained, "Your mother hoped to have a word with him. When I left her, that was where she was going." 

Giving her a thankful nod, he ran off in the direction she had just come from. Watching him run down the hall for a moment, she couldn't think of what could be so important to him. Thor often times over-reacted, but the desperation in his eyes made her think that this time was different. Continuing her walk down to the detainment hall, she hoped that whatever he had been worried about wasn't too severe. 

As she approached the containment room, she couldn't help but be shocked by the incredible lack of noise. The silence was eerie, and the air was almost sickeningly still. Continuing down the hall, the only sounds she could hear were those she made herself…her breathing, the click of her shoes…and she wondered why there was such an absence. Usually, her journey down this hall was accompanied by Loki's tortures screams but this time…nothing. 

Approaching the door, she was startled when she was greeted by a rather large man who she knew well was a torturer. Looking up at the man, she gave him a small nod of acknowledgment before walking towards the door. 

"It is dreadfully quiet." She remarked, before her hands met the door, "Curious, really." 

As she went to open the door, she was stopped as his words caught her. 

"That pathetic excuse for a prince…" he started, "The sounds of his constant discomfort and his insolent whining were too much for me. He got what he deserved." 

With that, Eir watched as the man walked off, leaving her standing in front of a large door, unsure of what was left behind it. Slightly nervous, she pushed the door open and entered the dim room. Shivering slightly at the temperature drop, she continued closer to the containment cell. 

As her eyes adjusted, she noticed a figure lying motionless on the dirtied floor. Running up to the cell, her heart stopped as she saw what was in front of her. Before her, Loki lay motionless—breathing pained, and sweat-beads pooling on his back. From what she could see, the wounds from his many tortures were painfully infected, and the sickness had spread throughout his body. 

Moving closer to the cell, she could feel a pressure on her as she touched the cage. Odin had placed much magic on the cell to prevent escape, and the pressure of that magic assaulted all of her senses. Shaking off the dizziness, she cautiously placed her hand on his shoulder and rolled him over towards her. As he rolled effortlessly, a small gasp escaped her lips as she finally understood what the torturer meant… 

His mouth was wired shut. 

Putting her hand on his forehead, her eyes widened at the intensity of his fever—and she suddenly felt very guilty for leaving him this long. Fevers of this caliber were especially dangerous to those of Jotun blood, and she wanted to scream that she didn't catch it earlier. Looking down at him again, she noticed that his green eyes had tried to flicker open at her, only to roll back in his head. Cursing his condition, she began to roll up her sleeves and placed her hand back into the cell once again. 

Closing her eyes in concentration, she placed her hand on his face and attempted her magic. She could tell that the infection had spread greatly, ravaging his already weak body. Opening her eyes, she watched as the wounds began to heal themselves, and his breathing became more regular. As she concentrated even more of her energy, she could tell that his infection was waning and that his body had given up its fight against it. 

Taking an exhausted breath, she could feel his temperature dropping and his eyes start to crack open. Letting go, she took her hand out of the cell and closed her eyes in fatigue. She was blessed with an extraordinary gift, but it did not come without cost. Breathing heavily, she opened her eyes to see that Loki had begun to try and sit himself up. He had no evidence of bruises, scars or lacerations. In fact, she was sure his torturer would be pleased that he now had a clean canvas to paint upon. 

Reaching into her pocket, she tossed a small pair of scissors to the man in the cell. She watched as he cringed while pulling the twine out of his lips, and discarded the bloodied string onto the floor. Moving closer to the cell, she took the small scissors from his bloodied hands and used the last bit of magic she could muster to heal the wounds that now adorned his face. Giving him a small smile, she admired her work. 

"You almost died." She explained, putting the scissors in her pocket, "Another day and that would have been it. Allfather wouldn't have had to worry about your execution." 

Loki gave her a grunt and turned his face away from her. Eir noticed that he looked distraught, almost like something precious had been taken from him. His frustration was evident, and he just shook his head at her. 

"You should have let me die." He growled, "I would have finally been freed of this wretched existence." 

Squinting her eyes at him, she sent him a hateful glance. Trying to pay attention to anything but Loki, she looked around the cell again. To her right, she could see a small cup of medicine that lay untouched and out of Loki's reach. Apparently, Sigyn had never followed through with her orders. 

"She was displeased with what I had to say to her." Loki explained, understanding Eir's confusion, "Pathetic Sigyn cannot handle reality." 

Eir sent a confused glance at him before going over and picking up the medicine. Though he now was rid of his wounds and fever, she could still sense his fatigue. His tired eyes betrayed his now healthy body. Walking over to the cell, she handed him the small cup. 

"And what reality is that, Loki?" she asked, watching him examine the green substance, "I knew you not to be one so in tune with reality." 

She watched as he gave her a small, dismissive laugh before setting he cup down. He walked back to the wall of the cell and placed his head upon it. Breathing tiredly, he looked at the cup once again before turning his eyes to her gold. 

"Sigyn couldn't accept that I have no use for her now." He explained, "She liked not the thought that she was a simple pawn, used to satisfy the wishes of my parents. I need not a wife. That pathetic excuse for a woman thought our betrothal was born through an unspoken love. A laughable sentiment, really." 

Eir looked down at the floor and felt a small rush of pity fall over her. As much as she disliked Sigyn, _despised_ her even, she knew all too well how painful it was to hear the person you love tell you they loved you not—that you weren't good enough. Shaking those thoughts from her head, she looked back at Loki and his tired eyes. 

"Loki, please drink that." She whispered, "This sleepless torture Allfather has ordered against you is inhumane. I—" 

" _Odin_ does not deny me of slumber, Eir." He interrupted, "It is torture by my own mind, I fear." 

He looked at the medicine again. 

"Besides, I will not drink this filth." 

She watched as he gave her another humorous laugh. His green eyes wandered the cell before he rested them back upon her. He gave her a amused smile as he studied her face. Eir had to admit, it unnerved her. 

"It pains you, Eir." He began, "You so desperately want to know the workings of my mind. I fear that, despite your noble efforts, it will all be in vain. Asgard has but moments, thanks to my failures on Midgard. My incompetence…" 

Eir could hear the pain dripping from his words. She could feel a fear permeate through the room, and she wondered if this was what Thor was so afraid of. In Loki's eyes, behind the fatigue, she could see a child screaming. She could see the regret. Whatever Loki feared, it was something worth fearing. 

"Loki, please." She begged, "Asgard—" 

"Asgard will have to pay the price of that incompetence," he interrupted, "When he comes, he will make sure I suffer immensely. He will have me begging for death, longing for it. The pain Odin has bestowed upon me here will look childish." 

Eir's eyes widened as Loki spoke. 

"It would be best if you left before he arrives." 

Biting her lip, she closed her eyes for a moment and lost herself in thought. For a moment, the silence between them was painful. Part of her wanted to think he was lying, and the other knew he was far too scared to be. Looking down at the floor, she just shook her head. 

"To flee would be cowardice," she decided, standing up to leave, "Drink the medicine, Loki, quiet your mind." 

Growling at her again, he threw the cup across the cell in a crash. He watched as she gave him one more look before walking out of the door. For a moment, the light from the hallway blinded him, before his room was replaced once again by darkness. Looking across the room, he gave a sigh as he picked up the cup with what was left of the medicine. Examining the contents once again, he took a deep breath and drank it. 

Finally, his mind was quiet. 

* * *

Odin walked down the treasure vault quickly. Looking around, he could see many treasures that he had collected over the years—the Tesseract, the Casket of Ancient Winters, The Eternal flame—but there was one treasure he knew was coveted beyond all the rest. Its abilities were unmatched, and it had now attracted the attention of the worst the universe had to offer. Looking at the curious artifact, he took a deep breath. 

He feared all of Asgard would fall for it. 


	6. To Tell a Lie

Odin looked at the relic in front of him, and gave a frustrated sigh. It was a curious object, one that he had acquired so long ago he remembered not how it was acquired. In his youth, he could vaguely remember collecting the various gems that adorned the golden gauntlet, but never in his time had he dared attempt to use all of their powers at once. He had been warned, time and time again, by being much wiser than him that doing so would put all of Asgard in jeopardy. 

"So this is it?" 

Odin turned around to come face to face with one of his wife's handmaidens. He watched as she walked closer to him, her dark eyes fixated curiously on the strange relic in front of her. Pushing her blonde hair out of her eyes, she gave Odin a small smile before focusing once again on the golden object. 

"Thank you for coming, Vor." Odin remarked, watching her eyes travel around the treasure room few ever saw, "Your wisdom is much appreciated in this matter. I know not a wiser soul to consult." 

Vor gave her king a flattered smile before looking around again. She was a goddess in her own right, one of wisdom and inquiry, so she was not surprised that Odin had called for her in this most pressing of matters. Still, what was around her was fascinating; few souls had been allowed in Odin's treasure vault—aside from the royal family—so everything she saw caused her curiosity to burn. 

"There is, obviously, much that would be coveted my Lord." She admitted, eyes traveling back to he golden gauntlet in front of her, "So if I may inquire, what makes this the most desired of your treasures?" 

Odin looked at the relic again. A fear resonated through him, almost as if saying its abilities would make the danger all the more real. Though powerful, he now wanted nothing to do with the cursed object. In his heart, however, he knew that if he was not truthful with Vor, he could never get the answers he was seeking. 

"This was given to me by my father, long before I knew its true power." Odin admitted, "When he gave it to me, it had but one gem—and it was my curiosity and lust for adventure that led me to find the others. In all my journeys, I have found all but one…a stubborn gem indeed." 

Vor looked down at the metal glove that was adorn with beautifully colored stones. Below the pointer finger, however, there was an ugly void—would be home of the gem that had alluded Odin. Vor looked at Odin again questioningly, still unsure of why an—albeit glorious—relic was so coveted. 

"The stones place unto the user powers unthinkable." Odin explained, "Oft I had tried to control them separately, but the power was frightening. The Norns warned me, long ago, to give up my dreams to own them all—for to harness them in their entirety, bestows a dangerous power upon their wielder." 

Vor looked down at the gauntlet again, intrigued by its dangerous nature. 

"What kind of power, my Lord?" 

Vor notice that Odin suddenly looked ashamed that he had allowed such a relic to exist on Asgard. 

"Omnipotence." 

Vor could feel her breath catch in her chest. Suddenly, everything started to make sense and the realizations of what was about to happen terrified her. She could tell that Asgard would be swept into war over this small object, and the loss she knew Asgard would take unsettled her. Taking a deep breath, she finally voiced her suspicions. 

"I suspect someone wants it." she admitted, "And you want to know how to spare Asgard the horrors this someone will bring?" 

Vor noticed that Odin looked ashamed once again. 

"Heimdall can tell that they will strike soon." Odin admitted, "I know not what these beings will do, but Loki fears them." 

Odin watched as Vor's dark eyes seemed lost in thought. He could see an unspoken fear in her eyes as she looked at the gems, biting her bottom lip in thought. Truthfully, he felt bad—putting this much weight on her shoulders—but she was Asgard's best hope. If the gauntlet really was capable of what the Norns claimed it was, she was perhaps the best hope for the rest of the realms as well. 

"The thirst for power has led men to do atrocious things." Vor explained, "Your son has proven that truth in the most painful of ways. I fear that, even if the gauntlet is destroyed, death will still befall Asgard—war is inevitable." 

Odin looked at Vor sadly as she spoke again. 

"If the stones exist on Asgard, they will be used to destroy us." She admitted regrettably, "Asgard's best defense is to separate the stones. Give them to Asgard's most trusted. Send them across the realms. Even if Asgard falls, the power will stay out of one being's hands." 

Giving a nod to Vor, Odin dismissed her. He focused his thoughts on the gauntlet as he listened to her footsteps growing farther away, finally leaving him to his options. Without the Bifrost, Asgard was a cornered animal—an easy target for enemies. He wondered how he would break the news to his kingdom? How would he tell the Asgardians of their inevitable war, of their inevitable mortality? What pain would he feel when Asgard learns this was Loki's doing- 

that the fall of Asgard was brought upon them by his own house? 

He never before felt so small. 

* * *

Eir walked down the halls of the palace once again, having been relieved of her duties to Frigga. To her side, walked Sjofn—another one of the Queen's handmaidens—a goddess who was so enthralled by notions of true love that is defined her. Eir had to admit, though Sjofn was an insufferable gossip, her abilities to match-make Asgardians was unmatched. On more than one occasion, the other high goddesses sought her powers to find suitors. Sjofn was usually successful, and her ease in finding love was envied by many. 

For the past while, however, Eir had tried to ignore the woman's unstoppable chatter. Every now and then, her golden eyes would pass over the woman with curly blonde hair and hazel eyes—trying with utmost effort to feign interest. To her regret, however, Sjofn had decided to continue the conversation. 

"Don't you agree, Eir?" she asked, noticing her colleague's aloof nature, "Lady Sif and Prince Thor would be a perfect match." 

Eir thought about this with a smile; anyone close to Sif knew that the warrior had loved Thor for centuries. Now that Thor had set his sights on a mortal, it was not hard to see the distant and pained look in Sif's eyes. She was actually surprised it took Sjofn so long to see that which was so obvious. 

"I agree, Sjofn." Eir admitted, "From what I have heard of the mortal, she seems an ill fit." 

"I am glad I am not the only one to see that." Sjofn smiled, "Word has it that he plans to bring the mortal here, during a grand feast, to present her to his parents. Could you imagine, Eir? A mortal on the throne of Asgard?" 

Eir let out a small laugh. 

"Better than Sigyn, I would suspect." Sjofn admitted thoughtfully, "Though I think not we need to worry about that. Loki has no chance at the throne now." 

Sjofn watched as Eir gave a nod in agreement before looking ahead in thought again. She had to admit, Eir had seemed more distant as of late. Since caring for the estranged prince. Perhaps Loki's condition was too much for even Asgard's best doctor to handle? Stress was written all too clearly on the woman's face. 

Before she could comment, Eir gave her a small goodbye and started walking down into the deeper parts of the palace—far beyond the handmaiden's chambers. Sjofn knew she was going to tend to Loki, and she shivered as she thought of the crazed prince. Stories had spread quickly of his condition, and none were pleasing. Most of Asgard thought him a delusional monster, and she had to give Eir credit for caring for such a beast. 

For she surely wouldn't. 

* * *

Eir let her eyes adjust to the darkness of Loki's detainment room. Again, it was unusually quiet—the only sounds coming from the dripping water from the outside world. Rubbing her arms at the cold, she walked closer to the cell—expecting to see a writing figure. To her surprise, however, she was not met with the usual horrors. This time, she was not met with a bloodied and sewn prince, begging for death. This time, she was met with a much more surprising scene: 

He was asleep. 

Next to him, she could see her empty mortar—the anesthetic contents completely consumed. A small smile found its way to her face as she placed her hand on his forehead, noting that the fever that had revenged him only a day before had disappeared. Her golden eyes looked down at him, studying how curious he now looked. Before her was not the monster she had seen earlier in the week, but the peaceful prince she once knew. As she watched his chest rise and fall blissfully, she wondered what had turned him into the murderer all of Asgard now saw? 

Sitting down quietly, she took a minute to appreciate that which she had not seen in so long. A small smile adorned the corner of his pale face, lost in a dream perhaps, and his eyes fluttered rapidly below his tired eyelids. For someone who had not slept in so long, the gift of slumber was a feeling most pleasant. Once satiated with sleep, she was hopeful that Loki would emerge a more cooperative specimen. 

Looking away from the peaceful scene for a moment, her attention was focused once more on her empty mortar. Having taken that much of her medicine, Loki would be asleep for quite some time—and while he certainly needed it, it gave Eir the chance she finally needed to begin the tedious healing process. With Loki's incessant refusal temporarily silenced, she would be able to delve into his mind and finally keep her promise to Thor. 

Moving closer to the cell, she put her arms through the bars and pushed some of Loki's dark hair away from his face. She watched cautiously as he gave a small twitch before drifting back. Placing her small hands on his temples, she closed her eyes and focused her magic on the complex maze which was his mind. 

She could feel her magic winding itself within the many complexities of the brain. It was such a fragile and variable organ that it made treating diseases of the mind a difficult task. But as she felt her magic twist and turn its way through the complexes, she was finding nothing. Nothing was unusual about the mind of this killer than any other, and it started to unsettle her greatly. 

Focusing harder, she finally managed to move herself into his deep conscious, where the worst of pathologies were known to linger. Her whole world felt heavy as her powers penetrated deeper, dragging themselves along the sickening muck which was Loki's mind. His deep conscious, what made him who he was, was a painful place to be in…but that, too, was void of any curious malady. 

No—what she saw was not a sickness. There was nothing fundamentally broken in the prince that lay before her. What she felt, what she could see in his mind was something far worse. As she dove deeper, she could feel her eyes well up and her chest tighten as she felt an unbearable heartbreak. What had been done to Loki, by the hands of his own family, had been what had truly broken him—not some pathology. What had turned Loki into the seemingly irredeemable God of Lies was deception itself—at the hands of those he loved the most. 

And that was something not even she could fix. 

  



	7. Shatter

Sif looked blankly at her reflection in her vanity mirror. Her eyes bore the marks of her tear filled night, and her cheeks were stained with the salty trail they left behind. She could feel her hand shaking as she applied her makeup—carefully trying to hide the evidence. Looking at her distant and broken face, however, she wondered if she could play the part. What looked back at her was not the strong warrior everyone knew. No-what stared back was a child screaming. 

She had tried, successfully she would think, to deny reality. With the Bifrost destroyed and the Tesseract missing, she convinced herself that Thor would never be united with his mortal again. In her mind, there was every chance that they would be together—that he would finally see what had been right in front of him all these years. She desperately hoped he would see her less as a comrade, and more of a woman who had grown to love him. 

But as she looked at her red eyes in her vanity mirror she knew those dreams had passed. Tonight, Thor would present Lady Jane to his parents and the rest of Asgard's nobility. Tonight, he would officially announce his intentions to begin a courtship with her, and all of Asgard would be expected to treat the mortal as royalty—as a potential future queen of Asgard. Sif could feel her chest tighten as she thought of the mortal, and it broke her to think that it would not be her making Thor happiest. It pained her that the smile she loved so much would be going towards a woman he still knew little of. 

Blotting her tears away with a tissue, she wondered if perhaps it was for the best. The reflection that looked back at her was not that of a strong queen for Asgard. She was not the definition of Asgardian elegance that queens were expected to possess—perhaps though a warrior himself, Thor wanted a true lady on his arm. Looking at herself in the mirror further, she couldn't help but notice how out of placed she looked in her silver dress and elegant jewelry. She was much better suited in armor—she was never going to be a Sigyn. 

Standing up and giving herself one more look, she took a deep breath. She could still see the signs of her sleepless night etched across her face, but she hoped the rest of Asgard's highest would pay no mind. In the mirror, she could see her door open with a familiar face to whom she sent a pained smile. 

"Lady Sif!" Fandral smiled, sending one of his dashing looks at her, "I came to accompany my dearest friend to the gala! Hogun and Volstagg ran ahead so…" 

"Thank you, Fandral." She smiled, cutting him off, "That would be most appreciated." 

With that, she locked her arm with her teammate and tried to give him a more genuine smile, though she was certain such true smiles would be rare tonight. 

There was nothing to be celebrating. 

* * *

Jane looked at herself in the full-length mirror in the handmaiden's hall. Behind her, a handmaiden, who introduced herself as Saga, was preparing her hair for the feast Thor had arranged. As she looked around her, she could feel the panic growing in her chest. Compared to these women, she looked like a peasant. Surrounding her, were goddesses in their own rights who could do spectacular things—and all she had was a brain. 

Why did Thor pick her against all of them? Even in the most elegant of dresses, she paled in comparison to these Asgardians. They chattered about amazing events that she could only dream of, they spoke of places and heroic tales that she would never know. Her life was a pathetic tale compared to all of them and yet—here she was—being courted by their prince. 

"Please don't worry, Lady Jane." A sweethearted goddess named Gefjon stressed, "I know a kind soul when I happen across one. All of Asgard will love you." 

Jane gave her a small smile before looking back at her reflection. She was adorned jewelry that was unlike anything on Earth—certainly more valuable that she could fathom-and a pale pink dress that was elegant beyond words. Though she felt like a princess, the woman staring back at her was not herself. The reflection that emitted regality was not the astrophysicist she knew she was…and she wondered if she could play the part. 

"What if they don't?" Jane finally asked, "I'm not Asgardian." 

"Oh Lady Jane that is laughable!" Saga smiled, "If a Jotun can pass as an Æsir, I suspect a mortal can." 

Jane took a deep breath of relief before another goddess spoke up. 

"But while Thor may love you," Sjofn warned, "It will be the Queen's choice who her son's wed." 

Saga could see the mortal's eyes widen in the mirror. Her dark eyes looked suddenly terrified as she looked at herself in her Asgardian clothing. Sensing her panic, Saga sent a glare to Sjofn before trying to calm her down. 

"But I am sure you will be fine, Milady." She reassured, "The Queen has been known to disapprove of some rather…appropriate matches…but I have faith that you will be Thor's perfect." 

Saga smiled as she could see a wave of relief wash across the mortal's face. In the corner of her eyes, however, she could see some of her fellow goddesses rolling their eyes. While she, too, didn't think Frigga would approve of a marriage between the two, she hated to see such panic in anyone's eyes—even a Midgardian's. Before she could say anything else, a knock came at the door to the handmaiden's hall. Peaking through the door, Thor stuck his face into the room and gave the room one of his famous smiles. 

"I have come to collect my lady." 

Giving Jane a final smile, Saga pushed the mortal towards her prince. She watched as Thor gave the nervous woman a grand smile and lock arms with her. It was a strange sight indeed, but Thor looked as though he was truly in love. For once, the ever-childish prince had grown up. 

It was fitting. 

* * *

Green eyes shot open to a strange meteor he knew well. Feeling his breathing quicken, Loki looked down to realize he was once again dressed in his elegant green robes he knew well. Shivering in the cold of space, he looked ahead at a winding staircase he had seen many times. In the background, lurking, he could hear the writhing of strange creatures—longing for a meal. 

Walking forward cautiously, he wondered if he was some elaborate dream…some side effect from that wretched medicine he had taken? As he felt the rock beneath his feet, however, and the shiver from the coldness around him he knew his mind had truly been transported back. Once again, he knew he was going to have to face his benefactor. 

"You thought you could escape us?" a voice finally said, breaking the silence, "How pathetic." 

Loki's green eyes focused on the creature in front of him. He watched as the alien's six fingered hand steadied the figure in front of him, and he took a deep breath. Suddenly, before he could blink, The Other was behind him—his breath on his neck. Trying to seem much braver than he was, Loki spoke. 

"I wanted not to escape." He lied, "My failures on Midgard were planned." 

Loki watched as The Other let out a small chuckle. As he watched the alien pace back and forth, his mind was racing. Though a master of deception, he feared his mouth spoke before his mind. How was he to justify that his failures were planned? How was he to justify such humiliation? 

"You see, my Lord." He started, words weaving together carefully, "After some thought on Midgard, I realized taking the planet was foolish. Why rule such a pathetic race? Asgard is much more desirable." 

Loki watched as The Other seemed to consider his thought for a moment. 

"I would have Asgard," Loki elaborated, "And Odin's treasures would be yours." 

Before The Other could speak, however, Loki's eyes widened as a larger being walked down the staircase. He could feel his breath catching in his chest as the purple being sent a devilish smile at him, bright teeth looking hungry in the distance. Next to him, The Other gave the larger being a bow—awaiting his every word. Finally, it came. 

"I was foolish to trust you, Asgardian." Thanos growled, "Your lies are transparent. Even now, your childish fears betray you. Your failures will not go unpunished. All of Asgard will be mine, after I retrieve what is rightfully mine, followed by the rest of the realms." 

Loki took a deep breath as Thanos moved closer to him, towering over him with every step. Never moving his green eyes, Loki watched as giant blue ones looked down at him like a hungry predator, thirsting for blood. 

"And once the nine realms are mine, once everything and everyone you love has been destroyed in front of you, I'll have your head!" 

Loki closed his eyes as Thanos spat in his face. Instinctively, his hand went to try and wipe the spit away. Heart racing, his green eyes opened once again to see the purple giant getting closer to him, ready to attack when… 

Blackness. 

Opening his eyes again, he realized he was in his cell. In the corner, he could hear the familiar click of water dripping, and he could feel the cool stone floor beneath him. Next to him, he could see the empty cup of medicine, and he could feel the sickening force on the cell that surrounded him. Sitting up, he realized he was alone and took a relieved breath. Perhaps it was a dream after all? Perhaps it was another hallucination…? 

Putting his hand to his forehead, however, his heart stopped. 

It was wet. 

* * *

"Does it ever get easier?" 

Eir looked up from her reflection in her wine glass and looked at the woman next to her. Sif was staring into the dance hall, watching Thor and Jane dance to an energetic tune that was echoing through the great hall. On the prince's face Eir noticed a sense of euphoria that she had not seen in some time, but behind the mortal's smile she could sense that she was screaming—just like Sif was next to her. 

"Look at how he smiles," she began again, "What can he possibly see in that mortal? Am I so blind?" 

Eir looked at Jane again. She seemed fragile compared to most Asgardians, especially Sif, and such fragility always seemed to attract Thor. He was a protector, a warrior, so it seemed only natural that he would be attracted to this fair, yet meek, Midgardian. Jane was something he could protect, and it was obvious the mortal was attracted to his valor. 

"I know not what he sees," Eir admitted, "I think it a simple infatuation, Sif. Thor is attracted to her novelty, but novelty is lost swiftly. Intellectually, they are an ill fit. I suspect, as time progresses, it will become harder to bare." 

Sif watched as Eir looked down at her wine again, swirling around the blood red liquid in her cup absentmindedly. The great healer didn't seem to enjoy these events as of late, and Sif wondered if it went beyond the repetitive nature of them. Once again, however, Eir gave her a sad smile. 

"But it won't get easier." She finally answered, "Lest you move on, the pain will destroy you." 

Sif watched as she looked down at her drink once again, lost in thought. The warrior knew the healer was speaking from experience, and that if she didn't head her advice, she would end up cold like Eir. She would not let this heartbreak define her future. She would not let heartbreak, even one this devastating, to overtake her like it had to others. Sending a small smile at the doctor, she said a small goodbye as she watched Eir walk off, black dress flowing behind her. 

Looking once again towards the dance hall, she watched as Thor smiled and introduced Jane to a number of nobles. The mortal smiled excitedly as she shook hands with some of Asgard's best and most important residents. Sif could feel the tightening in her chest once again, and the tears start to form on the corners of her eyes. Though she knew she should take Eir's advice, she couldn't bring herself to give up on Thor. 

This was a war. 

She wasn't prepared to lose. 

* * *

Eir gave a yawn as she walked down the halls towards her chambers. She couldn't wait to get back to her abode, finally free of the sickening music and chatter of the other gods. Once alone, she could finally rid herself of these dreadful shoes and painful dress—she could finally stop pretending to be something she wasn't. Her life wasn't meant to be glamorous, and her current dressings certainly betrayed that. 

"I will absolutely not allow it!" 

Stopping in the middle of the hall, Eir could have sworn she heard the frustrated sounds of her Queen. Unstrapping her loud shoes, she moved stealthily, closer to the sound of an argument. Hiding behind one of the many statues in the palace, she listened quietly. 

"I will not give them my son." Frigga's voice echoed, "Asgard will be called to war regardless. At least let me protect my children." 

"He is not even your own, Frigga." Odin's voiced reminded, "If we do not give them Loki, Asgard's suffering will be severe. Perhaps if we play it off as a self sacrifice, Asgard will view him more as a martyr than a monster." 

Eir could hear the faint sobs of Frigga follow. A sickening feeling found its way into her chest as the conversation continued. 

"Loki's death will buy time, Frigga." Odin tried to reason, "I think not this war will end well. At the very least, Thor will be saved. The stones will be saved. Asgard may fall, but the other realms will be protected from the horrors we will face." 

Golden eyes widened as they spoke more of the horrors that were going to befall Asgard. Her chest hurt as she realized that the people partying in the great hall were being denied the information. Without the Bifrost, they would be trapped to endure attack. She suddenly felt what she knew Loki felt—a fear unmatched. Breathing quickly, she grabbed her shoes and moved away from statue, trying her hardest to be silent. 

As she tiptoed down the hall, she could feel her heartbeat racing. Pulling up her dress, she began to walk faster, trying to escape what she had just heard. Before she could make it halfway down the hall, however, she was halted. 

"Eir, how convenient." Frigga called out, "Allfather requires your audience." 

Her heart stopped. 

  



	8. Glorious Purpose

Eir's breath caught in her chest as she turned around and met eyes with Frigga. She could feel her heart racing as the woman walked closer to her, knowing she had been caught. A million scenarios raced in her mind of how she would be punished for her untamable curiosity, but the Queen simply placed a hand on her shoulder. 

"Eir, I fear I am going to ask too much of you again." 

* * *

Heimdall walked out of the gala with a smile on his face and a stomach filled with the best food Asgard had to offer. Relieved of his duties for the night by the Allfather, he was pleased that he was finally able to catch up with old friends and enjoy himself for once. The party had long since died down, and he was anxious to finally make his way to his observatory and sleep—after consulting with Odin. Towards the end of the party, he had been alerted that the king required his presence-and he was painfully curious as to why. 

As he walked closer to the throne room, he began to hear the faint sounds of laughter echoing down the hall. Lightening his step, he kept an open ear as he continued his trek forwards. Moving his golden eyes to the side, he caught the brilliant red of a cape—Thor's cape—followed by some particularly feminine laughter. 

"Thor not here!" 

Clearing his throat loudly, Heimdall watched as Thor's head flew out from behind a statue and gave him a rather embarrassed smile. Following Thor, the mortal Jane walked out from the corner and smoothed out her elegant party dress. A fiery blush was creeping its way across her fair features, and she took Thor's hand as he walked towards Heimdall. 

"Good Heimdall, I fear I have not yet introduced you to Lady Jane." Thor smirked, pushing Jane forward, "Jane, this is Heimdall. He is Asgard's loyal gatekeeper." 

Heimdall raised Jane's hand to his lips and gave her a greeting kiss. He gave her a curious smile as she returned the greeting with a haphazard curtsy, with a humorous smile planted across her face. Returning his gaze to Thor, he noticed that the prince's face harbored a curious look. 

"Why are you not at the gate, Heimdall?" he finally asked, "What brings you to these parts of the palace?" 

"Your father," Heimdall explained, "I know not why he has hailed me." 

"Excellent!" Thor bellowed, grabbing Jane's hand, "I require his presence as well. We will accompany you, Heimdall." 

The dark man gave Thor a strange look before returning a smile and walking towards the large door. As they continued their trek, Heimdall couldn't hold back rolling his brilliant eyes as he heard the giggles and sweet whispers of the lovers behind him. He was suddenly happy that he was far too busy with his royal duties to fall in love. It seemed sickeningly sweet. 

Opening the door, his eyes widened as they were met with their twin. In the hall, along with Odin and Frigga sat Eir—looking not particularly pleased. Bowing to the royals, Heimdall was shocked when the Warrior's three and Sif followed not far behind. Moving his eyes around the room, he could feel a wave of confusion emanating from everyone in the room. It was all too apparent that he was not the only one who was unsure of Odin's summons. 

Standing up, he walked next to Eir as Thor occupied his parents through a conversation. Looking down at her, he noticed her eyes matched his hesitation and fear. The two were good friends, bonded by their extraordinary eyes and gifts that accompanied them, and Heimdall could tell when she was nervous. Looking back up to the royals, he noticed Thor was still engaging his parents. 

"What's going on, Eir?" Heimdall whispered. 

Before she could answer, Odin stood before the group and banged his scepter on the gilded floor. Silence befell the room, and all eyes were locked on the king that stood before them. Heimdall could notice the nervous breathing of the warrior's three as Odin walked down the stairway from his throne, and stood before them as equals. Heimdall knew Odin well, and he could tell that his king was rattled. 

"I know what is on your minds," the king began, "And I apologize for the secrecy. I want not for all of Asgard to know what transpires here tonight." 

Heimdall watched as Frigga walked down and placed a reassuring hand on her husband's shoulder, urging him to continue. 

"Tough I have managed to keep the rest of Asgard blind, the threat of War has officially been realized. Any day now we will be host to a power we cannot hope to defend against. Loki's affairs on Midgard have drawn them here in search of something greater…" 

Odin's eyes traveled to the ground for a moment, avoiding the curious eyes of those Asgardians that now stood before him. He could feel his heart racing, the shame crawling back as he prepared to admit his defeats to them. 

"In my youth, I was given a relic—one which would assure myself unimaginable power—had I acquired the necessary stones. My father thought it necessary for Asgard to possess such a relic. He believed that, if the gauntlet was possessed by Asgard, the nine realms would bow to us." 

Gold eyes looked at Odin cautiously as he continued. 

"But my father was wrong. I was wrong." The king admitted, "Instead, treachery will befall Asgard as beings unmatchable assault us—all to obtain it." 

Heimdall watched as Thor stepped forward. The gatekeeper could tell that the threat of war had awakened the deep longing for blood that Thor harbored in his warrior heart. Thor was a protector, and he could see the prince's longing to protect his home in his blue eyes. 

"Father, no foe is unmatchable for us!" he exclaimed boldly, "We will fig—" 

"No." Odin interrupted, "I fear war is inevitable. Great loss is inevitable. While I cannot hope to protect Asgard from what follows, I can protect the other realms." 

The gatekeeper sent a curious look towards Eir as the pair watched Frigga walk towards Odin with a small box. The pair looked on cautiously as he opened the box and pulled out a brilliant stone—emitting a power that all the room could feel. Holding up the stone again, Odin continued his speech. 

"The gauntlet—the relic—is powered by a number of stones that bestow upon the user incredible abilities. In my youth, I attempted to control each stone—to little success. Together, they give the user omnipotence. I knew not the dangers of harboring such a weapon until late. Throughout my journeys, I have collected all but one stone. I fear the being that craves the Tesseract and the gauntlet has the one which alluded me for so long." Odin explained. 

"You have been summoned here for a purpose," Odin went on, " The group of you represent some of Asgard's most trusted. Your survival, in wake of this war, is essential. Most important, the lot of you possess qualities that-I believe-make you suitable hosts for the stones." 

Odin handed the box to Frigga once again and pulled out a curious red gem. The group watched as he walked up to Thor and placed the stone in his son's hands, cupping his over the Thunder God's. 

"My son," Odin smiled sadly, "You possess power as strong as mine, and a heart much stronger. To you, I give you the Power Gem. It will make you seemingly invincible. Such power requires a wise ruler, and I know you to be the right choice." 

Odin walked over to Sif, and pulled out a yellow stone—one that radiated beautifully over her silver evening gown. He placed the stone in her hands, and a curious smile found its way to the warrior's face. 

"I scoffed at the idea that you, a woman, could be a warrior." He admitted, "But you, Lady Sif, defied at the conventions of reality and proved me wrong. To you, I give the Reality Gem—a powerful stone that grants its users wishes, no matter how illogical. Such a stone requires its user to be innovative and level headed. I know not a better soul on Asgard." 

Next, Odin pulled out an Orange stone and walked over to Fandral, Volstagg, and Hogun. He passed the stone between the three, and gave them a smile. 

"Time is a curious thing that even the best of us cannot escape." Odin began, "This stone allows its user to travel freely, unbounded by time. In my youth, I found this stone the hardest to control—for it requires masters of past, present, and future. Its holders must understand teamwork, for no aspect of time is more precious than the other. You, Warriors Three, are the epitome of teamwork, and will be a fitting match for this difficult stone." 

Walking over to Heimdall, Odin placed a purple gem in his hand—watching as it glistened beautifully as its light reflected off of his golden armor. 

"Heimdall, your ability to see beyond realms unknown is why I have chosen you for the Space Gem. Its powers allow the user limitless movement throughout the realms. A worthy user must have an unparalleled knowledge of the universe—for which no Asgardian has a better. You are the fitting match I could never be." 

Finally, Heimdall watched as the King pulled out a green stone and placed it into the hands of the woman next to him. He watched as her golden eyes reflected the green light, casting an eerie glow over her features. 

"Asgard will never know a better healer, Eir." Odin began, holding her hand, "Your abilities to see beyond life and death, to call back the souls of the dead, make you the perfect companion to the Soul Gem. Your abilities will be enhanced with this stone, for it will allow you to control souls of the living and dead. The stone hungers for souls, and you are the ideal harness to its powers." 

Eir looked down at the stone and could feel a sentience. Looking up to Heimdall next to her, she sent an alarmed look as Odin walked back and took a stand next to Frigga. The others seemed to be examining their stones curiously, wondering the extent of the power they possessed. Breaking them out of their curiosity, however, Volstagg spoke: 

"My Lord," he began, "Are we to fight with these?" 

The group watched as Frigga came forward, her blue eyes saddened. 

"You are to leave Asgard." She explained, "Scatter yourselves across the realms, but protect the stones with your lives. For the good of Asgard, for the other realms, the stones must not be collected under one hand." 

Putting her hand on Thor's, she gave his hand a squeeze before addressing the group again. 

"Leave tonight." She said, her voice breaking, "Take only what is most precious." 

With that final word, Odin gave them the cue to leave. Eir walked behind Heimdall, feeling sick that they were going to leave while the rest of Asgard was left to burn. She could not imagine the pain the others were to feel having to leave their loved ones—and for once she was happy she was alone. As she walked out of the room, Thor's voice caught her attention. 

"And what of Loki, father?" 

Eir could feel the hesitation in the air before Frigga answered for Odin. 

"He will be safe, Thor." She lied, "I swear to you." 

Eir's heart dropped. 

Thor would never know any better. 


	9. Precious

Eir sat at her vanity, taking off the excessive jewelry she had worn for the party. Looking down on the wooden tabletop, she could see the eerie green glow of the stone Odin had bestowed upon her. Taking a breath, she could feel a hunger from the stone—just as Odin had warned. It was a dangerous feeling, and she was scared that she would not be able to be the harness Odin said she would be. 

Looking around her room, she could hear Frigga's words echoing through her mind. She, and the rest of them, were expected to find their various ways off Asgard tonight—traveling lightly, only taking what was most important. But as she looked around the small room, absent of any spectacular items, she was at a loss. What she could see were dozen of medicines, herbal remedies and tools—but certainly nothing precious. 

In fact, looking back at everything, she knew she had nothing precious left. Everyone that had ever meant something to her was gone—consumed by death or something worse. Opening her jewelry box she saw a number of lavish pieces, given to her over time from the queen, but one piece struck her interest—and her heart stopped. Closing her eyes in thought, she placed the small golden necklace in her pouch, along with a number of useful medical tools. 

Picking up the green gem and placing it in the bag as well, she gave her room one final look, knowing very it may be the last. 

She was ready. 

* * *

Dark eyes made their way to the sparkling floor of the palace, as loud clicking of boots followed fast. Their owner, Sif, had a jacket on and a small pouch on the side of her armor—nestled close to her sword. Sif moved quickly down the hall, prepared to meet her comrades to journey off of Asgard. Though a fierce warrior, she could feel her heart trying to claw its way out of her chest as she thought about it. 

Even in her youth, she had not journeyed far from Asgard. She could recall the glorious tales Thor and the Warrior's Three would tell her of their travels to other worlds—how they were hailed as Gods—but she never wanted any part of it. Being a female warrior on Asgard gained her more attention than she needed, or ever craved. Still, the idea of leaving the place she had grown up, the place she had loved ones, unsettled her. 

As she continued down the hall, she could hear voices that were all too familiar. Slowing her pace and quieting her step, she looked over the balcony to see Thor and Jane. Feeling a new pain in her chest, she watched as Thor gave a longing hug to his mother. Even from above, she could see the pain in Frigga's eyes as she said good-bye to her son—the only one she had left. 

Looking on, she could feel her eyes burning as she watched Thor pull Jane closer, fixing the hood on her cloak. The way he protected her, the way he held her close to his body made her want to scream. Looking down towards her sword and her most important items, she could feel her bottom lip quiver as she tried to hold back tears. 

What was most precious to her was already lost. 

* * *

Heimdall's golden eyes cast themselves over the broken, but beautiful Bifrost. The glitter of the iridescent crystals of the bridge glowed spectacularly against the dark Asgardian night. Taking in a deep breath, he could feel his heart ache as he looked over the sparkle of the lights from the city and palace. He could see realms most Asgardian's could only dream of, he had seen planets and cities in the hundreds, but they all paled in comparison to Asgard. 

Looking down at the purple gem in his hand, he wondered where the little stone would take him. While he was certain that it would take him on grand adventures, it was Asgard that would always own his heart. Even now, as he waited for Eir to leave with him, he could feel a tightening in his chest as he thought about the prospect of leaving it. 

Smiling a sad smile to himself, he tried to relish this moment on Asgard. Wherever the stone may take him, whatever sights he may see, he would always keep the beauty and glory of Asgard with him. Taking a deep breath of the crisp air, he was grateful that while he may have to abandon his home—all to protect a little ball of light—these memories would remain. 

He was happy his packing was light. 

* * *

Eir wrapped her cloak around her tighter as the crisp Asgardian air nipped at her skin. Walking through the royal gardens, her eyes set their sights on Heimdall's watch tower—for he was her ticket off of Asgard. Quickening her pace, she tried to ignore the beauty of the flowers around her and the glitter of the lightening bugs as they danced across the dew. Though Asgard had dealt her a hard life, she could remember painfully wonderful memories that the place had delivered—ones that remained a dangerous weight on her chest. 

Memories had interesting properties, after all—they had both the ability to lift spirits and bog them down. Unfortunately for her, the greatest memories Asgard had to offer her only tore at her, destroying whatever was left of the woman she once knew. The little green gem in her satchel, therefore, was a gift of immeasurable importance—for it finally gave her an escape. 

Interrupting her thoughts, however, she could hear a curious sound behind her. Stopping on the stone path, she steadied her breathing as she tried to identify her intruder. Feeling the chill of the air once again, her breath caught as a voice called out. 

"Are you not forgetting something, Eir?" 

Turning around, golden eyes were met with a woman she knew well. Taking a sigh of relief, she gave a small but forced smile towards the dark haired woman whose grey eyes forced themselves upon her face painfully. Walking towards the fellow handmaiden, Eir met her intense gaze with her own. 

"I know not what you speak of, Var." Eir explained almost sarcastically, "I would be delighted if you enlightened me." 

"You know what I speak of, Eir." Var said warningly, "Promises between men and woman are amongst the most important. I like not when they are so knowingly broken." 

Eir closed her eyes in anger as her fellow handmaiden spoke. She knew well enough to try not to lie to Var—for she knew the goddess was well aware of the events that transpired around her. Taking a frustrated sigh, she met her eyes once again with Var's judging gray. 

"It matters not, I think, if I break my promises." Eir laughed, "For vows made towards me were so rudely broken. To whom do I owe anything? I am free from such shackles." 

Eir watched as Var sent her an amused look before turning back towards the palace. Golden eyes squinted as they watched the other goddess walk away, dress flowing in the slight night breeze. Turning around, Eir fixed her cloak again and walked quicker towards Heimdall's observatory until she was stopped one more time, this time a pain in her chest creeping back. 

"I think not such promises broken." Var stated, "It will be best if you don't break yours." 

* * *

Loki rubbed his forehead as he tried, rather unsuccessfully to rid himself of another vicious headache brought upon by another bought of sleepless nights. Looking towards the other end of his cell, he could see the noticeable silhouette of a bucket—one he knew to be filled with dirty, albeit soothing water. Crawling over the cobbled cell floor, he hissed as his lacerated hands met with the water stinging his wounds. 

Taking in a sharp breath, he cupped his hands in the filthy liquid and splashed it against his sore face. He allowed a small smile to form across his chapped lips as the water flowed down his face, soothing the throbbing pain that had occupied it. Resting his head against the stone wall, he cast his eyes across the cell towards a small window, which was his only link to the outside world. 

Closing his eyes for a moment, he took a second to enjoy the chilled breeze that made its way through his stuffy abode, reminding him in the most painful of ways that there was a world beyond the bars he grew to know. Loki closed his eyes tighter as he thought of how his only company now was the four walls that surrounded him, and the bars that separated him from his home. 

Laughing to himself, he realized how silly that sentiment was. Asgard was not his home in any sense of the word. He supposed it was fitting, then, that he be secluded in a world apart from the others. He supposed it was fitting that he be shackled like the monster all of Asgard saw him as…and how he would die as one, too. Perhaps in death he would finally find a place of belonging. Perhaps, with his death, Thanos would grant him that which he craved so desperately. 

Before he could drift off to the musical chirping of the night bugs, however, his serenity was interrupted by the assaulting screech of the door. Opening his green eyes, he put a bloodied hand over his eyes as light assaulted his dark cell. Cursing under his breath, he rubbed his head once again as the light and a loud clicking noise stabbed at his headache. As he opened his mouth to protest, however, he heard the unmistakable sound of a lock unlocking as a shadowy figure came into view. 

"Hurry, Loki." 

Green eyes widened as he studied the woman in front of him. Visibly out of breath, Eir looked as if she had grown pale with desperation. In her shaking hand, he could see a bloodied key—one which he knew only the guards outside possessed—and he could hear her heart racing. He could feel his breathing quicken as she came into his cell and grabbed his cold hands, her delicate ones shaking as they unlocked the shackles around his broken ones. 

Rubbing his torn wrists, he stood up as he watched her move about his cell hastily, obviously nervous. Finally, he watched as she stopped and looked at him once again, her eyes filled with an unspoken fear. 

"Please, Loki, I fear others will come." 

As she turned to leave, he grabbed her wrist and jerked her back. 

"I don't seek your pity, you insufferable wench." He growled as he grabbed onto her wrists tighter, relishing in the feeling of her pulse quicken under his grip, "I need not your help to escape." 

His eyes watched with interest as she squirmed under his grip, trying unsuccessfully to rip her hands away from his. A small smile founds its way to his face as her golden eyes locked onto his, showing a defiance that amused him so. Finally, he noticed that she stopped her struggle, studying his dirtied face. 

"I pity you not, Loki." She whispered quickly, "I am only heading your warning. There is no one who knows the paths off Asgard as you do." 

Loosening his grip on her, he watched as she rubbed her own wrists—now sore from his force. Studying her again, he realized that she was dressed for a trip with a small satchel at her side, probably one containing medicine, and a cloak wrapped firmly around her small frame. Looking away from her, he considered his options… 

Escape with a pathetic creature such as Eir? 

Or die here, accused of attempted escape? 

"Loki the guards will be here any moment, pl—" 

"I would rather die here, than take any help from you." He interrupted angrily, "Why should I help you with my magic? You best suffer the same fate as I." 

Loki watched as Eir's eyes widened, silver tears forming against the delicate gold. He watched amused as her bottom lip started to quiver, only to have her bite it holding back a scream. He jumped slightly as she punched the cage, whipping the key at him in rage. Eyes widening, he marveled at how such a delicate creature could transform into something so viscous in a matter of moments. 

"I hope you die a painful death! No amount of pride can save you from it!" 

With that, he watched as she stormed off—leaving the light from the hallway biting at his senses. Rubbing his head again, he looked down at the bloodied key that was thrown to him. Freedom finally rested in his hand, and his heart started to race as he tried to figure out which path to take. 

Both led off of Asgard. 

But only one ended with him alive. 

* * *

Eir could feel her chest tighten as she quickly tried to prepare a horse for riding. She could feel her heart beat faster as she thought of how angry Loki looked, how he would have rather died than take her help. She could feel her hands shaking as she tried to strap the saddle on tighter, remembering how tight his hands felt against her wrists... 

Putting her bag on the horse, she could feel her knees go weak as she thought of her incompetence, and her broken promises. She wanted to cry as she thought of how stupid he was, and how she failed at saving him. There was nothing but hated in her heart for the prince, and yet knowing that she condemned him to death made her want to scream. For being the best doctor in the nine realms, she wondered how she could be such a failure? 

Wiping away the tears from her glossy eyes, she put her foot in the stirrup and attempted to hoist herself atop the large horse. As she went to grab the reign, however, she could feel her shaking hands betray her, and gravity take over—casting her towards the ground again. Closing her tired eyes in preparation for the impact, her heart skipped as the fall was never realized. 

Opening her eyes once she was firmly planted on the ground, she was shocked to see a pair of green ones looking down at her from the horse. She watched as they rolled around in their owner's head annoyed, before a wounded hand came down to offer itself to her. 

"Get on with it," Loki growled, "Before I change my mind." 

Giving him a questioning look, she cautiously took his hand and got on the horse. Before she could protest, he had them riding off towards the more forested area of Asgard, on the outskirts of the city. Closing her eyes against the cold breeze, the last thing she could remember was the feeling of her hair whipping against her face and chanting in a language too old for her to understand. 

And then Asgard was gone. 


	10. Promises

"Get up!" an angry voice called out, "I'll leave you here." 

Golden eyes clenched tightly as their owner became acutely aware of the pain emanating through her body. Placing two hands in front of her, Eir could feel the chill of the ground as she tried to lift herself off of the unfamiliar land. She could hear her bones cracking, as if she had been there for quite some time, apparently stunned from the fall. Blinking a few times, her eyes widened as they were met with burgundy colored snow. 

Whipping her head around, she was met with two angry green eyes—whose prince they belonged to appeared unscathed. Placing a hesitant hand on her face, she realized that the blood was her own, a consequence of a bad fall from…well, whatever Loki had done. Grabbing a small cloth from her satchel, she punched her nose tightly, finally standing up to meet his intense gaze. 

"Took you long enough." He huffed, "For a second, I thought luck had finally shined its light upon me and you had perished. I should have known; I am never so fortunate." 

Eir squinted her eyes at him, holding more pressure on her nose. Already, she could feel her fingers going numb in the cold, and the biting sting of it nipping at her face. Looking around, she noticed that this place certainly didn't look like Jotunheim, though she couldn't be sure. They were surrounded by a number of trees, which she was certain she must have hit on her way down. Next to them, she could see a number of frantic horse tracks—left from their not so loyal animal companion. Sighing heavily, she looked back at Loki who was walking ahead of her. 

"Where did you bring us?" she asked in a stuffed, nasally voice, "Is this Niffleheim? " 

Eir watched as Loki only continued to walk, his steps leaving angry footprints in the snow. 

"I know not." He finally admitted, sensing that she was catching up, "I didn't want my mind to betray me. Thanos can play with minds. If he knew where I was going, he would follow." 

Loki turned back to the woman behind him and let out an audible sigh. She was becoming a burden already—lagging behind him and getting injured. He could tell that she was having a difficult time traveling in the thick snow, and he wondered if it would be kinder to kill her himself? After all, it would save her from the unknown horrors of this world. It would save her from himself. 

Looking her over again, he couldn't help but think she looked miserable; her face was caked with frozen blood, and her cheeks were already red from the cold. His heart quickened a little as he imagined how his hands would feel around her small neck, and how pretty her golden eyes would look as he watched the life escape them. It would be too easy, her death. Keeping her alive would be the hard part. 

Closing his eyes in anger, he cursed to himself as he fought with his own conflicting notions. As much as he wanted to kill her, part of him was grateful for her help. She could have let him burn with the rest of Asgard, but she saved him. As for why, he still wasn't certain- but he supposed it would only be common courtesy to extend the same to her. 

"Clean yourself up, Eir." he sighed in frustration, "You look pathetic." 

* * *

Frigga wrapped her robe around her tighter in the chill of the Asgardian morning. Out on her balcony, she watched as the sun burst over the horizon glittering Asgard with its light. Not willing them, she could feel her eyes become wet as she realized how few of these moments she had left. Her heart ached knowing that her home was in danger, and that there was nothing that she, nor Odin, could do to stop it. 

Closing her eyes, she wondered if Thor was watching the sunrise wherever he was? With Lady Jane at his side, she figured that her son must have returned to Misgard to live his life with her there. Thinking of the life Thor would live beyond Asgard was a painful thought; and her heart was heavy as she thought of all the moments she would never be able to share with him. It was painful to think that he would never be able to become the great king she knew he would be. It was painful to think that she would never live to see him become the great man, or the great father, she knew he would be. 

Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she pulled her robe even closer as she walked back into the room she shared with Odin. Her husband was long since awake, already tending to his duties as king, and leaving her to haunting thoughts. Closing her eyes again, she figured that she should join him—and try to be the strong queen by his side. 

Before she could summon her handmaidens, however, a brutal knock came at her doors…followed by two men in elegant armor. 

"I am so sorry, your Highness." One of them said with a bow, "There has been a situation." 

Giving them a questioning glance from her blue eyes, they continued. 

"Milady," the other breathed airily, "Loki is gone." 

* * *

Green eyes examined their surroundings curiously; the environment was similar to that of Niffleheim, though part of him had a feeling they were not in the land of darkness and death. No, this land was much too bright, and lacked the obvious deadly streams and shores of death. Laughing to himself, he had to admit it would have been a fitting place for them to end up in such a place—for his actions more than granted him a spot on the desolate land. Still, he wondered what world hosted them? 

Looking next to him, he noticed that his companion had managed to keep his pace. The blood was finally shed from her face, leaving only the bruises of a broken nose and a busted lip. Musing to himself, he wondered how torturous it must be for her? He knew from experience that she could cure all but her own maladies. It would be a cruel existence to succumb to pathology when given such a power to cure others. 

Continuing his walk, he could hear a small squeak of pain from the woman next to him. Looking back at her, he noticed that she instantly tried to hide the twist of pain from her face. Her eyes widened as his locked with hers, irritation permeating their green irises. He watched as she bit her already swollen lip, and looked down towards the ground. 

"It's just really cold." She whispered, her eyes fixed on her soaked shoes, "I don't know how you're not." 

Eir could feel her breath catch in her throat as she saw Loki's eyes widen in anger. 

"I…I'm sorry, I forgot!" she apologized quickly, "I didn't mean to…" 

"But you did." Loki growled, grabbing her wrist again. 

A small feeling of satisfaction filled him as he felt her heartbeat quicken under his grip. He watched as she blinked a few times and avoided his gaze, the pain of the cold still evident on her face. Letting her go, he continued walking. As much as he didn't want to stop, he knew his companion would sustain cold injuries with more travel. An injured burden would be even more trouble for him. He suddenly wished he had killed her. 

"I pray you can find shelter in those mountains." He growled, pointing in the distance, "I will accompany you in due time. Until then, make yourself useful and tend to a fire." 

Looking at the rocks in the distance, Eir let out a sigh of relief as she thought of the promise of warmth they offered. Looking back towards Loki, her eyes widened as she noticed that he was nowhere to be seen—no trail of snowy footprints as a guide. Suddenly acutely aware of the quiet stillness of this frozen world, she wished she had gone with Heimdall and broken her foolish promise. 

Heimdall would have never put her through this torture. 

* * *

"Erik, I think I see them!" Darcy smiled, pushing the accelerator, "Just like your calculations said!" 

Erik Selvig rolled his eyes as he listened to Darcy go on about how excited she was to see Thor again, what she would do to him if Jane ever got tired of him, and how she wondered if Thor had any Asgardian guy friends she could hook up with. In the distance, he could see the familiar dusty fog of the New Mexico desert. On the ground, he could see the characteristic ringing that such travel left on the Earth. His calculations had indeed been correct. 

Around one hour ago, their lab had recorded the high energy typical of such interspace travel. Though not as powerful as the Bifrost, the energy read-out had confirmed that there was entrance by other beings in the desert. 

Smiling, he watched as Darcy stuck a hand out of the window and started waving furiously at the two figures in the distance, one of which looked a little unsteady on their feet. Opening his door, he joined the energetic brunette in welcoming back their friends. As he walked closer, though, he could see that Thor's face was etched with worry. Next to him, Jane looked like she was going to be sick. 

"Are you ok?" Darcy asked worriedly, patting Jane on the back, "Oh god, what are you _wearing!"_

Erik ignored Darcy as she tried to comfort an, admittedly, ill dressed Jane. Looking at Thor, he could see that the Avenger's eyes were filled with a fear he could not ignore. Planting a hand on his shoulder, he gave Thor a sympathetic look. 

"What's wrong?" he asked, "Why are you back from Asgard so soon?" 

Thor closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. He didn't want any of these mortals to get involved with the trials of Asgard, especially Jane. Now, he was stuck on Midgard with a power he couldn't hope to understand and a task that broke his heart. How was he supposed to live out his life here knowing that his home was in ruins? He couldn't. 

"Asgard is in peril, Selvig." Thor admitted quietly, "I wanted Jane safe." 

Thor cast his blue eyes over towards the woman who was sitting down by the truck, trying hard not to be sick. Next to her, Darcy gave him a wink before patting Jane on her back again and offering her water. Sighing, he took out the small red stone that his father had given to him and examined it for the first time since he received it. With it, he could feel an unbelievable power flowing through his body, and it scared him to think of the being that would seek out such a stone. 

"My father wanted this protected." Thor explained, showing Erik, "He wanted it off Asgard." 

Erik's eyes widened as he looked at the stone. It was an interesting piece, a deep red almost like a ruby. From it, emanated a faint glow that told him it was anything but normal…and that it was anything but harmless. Even now, standing away from it, he could feel the strange sensation it gave off. 

"SHIELD can analyze it." He explained, "We still have the analytical equipment from the tesseract." 

Thor put the stone back in his pocket and considered Erik's offer. It was a curious stone, but SHIELD was known for being less than trustworthy. Though he knew in his heart that they fought for good, he knew that they kept secrets. He knew they played both sides of the field sometimes. For Midgard's sake, he didn't want such power in the hands of an organization like that. 

"I think I have a better person in mind, Erik." 

* * *

Loki closed his eyes for a moment as he enjoyed the quiet heat of the fire hitting his face. Looking over towards the other side of the cave, he watched as Eir rubbed her small hands over the fire, her wet shoes drying next to her. Traveling down to his own hands, he closed his eyes in thought as he remembered how they turned blue on Jotunheim. He cringed as he remembered his true reflection. He cringed as he remembered the monster that he really was. 

"I can heal you." 

Blinking, he looked back at the woman next to the fire. She was looking at him with a medical eye, looking over all of the injuries he had sustained on Asgard and decidedly ignored here. They were superficial injuries, nothing serious by any means, but he decided to indulge her. Perhaps her magic trick would keep her quiet, at least. 

He watched with interest as she placed a hand on his wrist, blinking as she seemingly wiped the rings around them away. Broken fingernails repaired themselves, and he could feel the magic course through other parts of him—feeling a new tooth grow and his headache subsiding. Looking back at her, he noticed the dark bruising under her eyes and was reminded again of how terrible her power was. 

"It's a cruel gift." He admitted, "To have this power, and not being able to wield it on yourself?" 

He watched as her eyes cast themselves to the floor, avoiding his eyes. 

"You know how I feel about that, Loki." 

"I'm sorry I brought it up." 

"But you did." 

Growling, he ignored her once again. Running his hands along his now heal wrists, he was now slightly grateful he had kept her alive. Her gifts were useful, and in the unknown worlds such as these, would undoubtedly be of some use. As long as he kept her in fear, he knew she would obey him…as an obedient tool. 

"Why did you decide to leave?" 

Eir looked at him and wondered if she should show him the curious green stone that his father had tasked her with. Even now, she could feel its curious power permeating through her satchel, a strange sentience competing with her own. Eyes traveling to her bag for a moment, she decided against it: for it would only tempt Loki to dispose of her sooner. Hoping that she could fool the God of Lies, she smiled. 

"Asgard has given me a hard life, Loki." She explained, "For it to burn without me upon it would be no loss." 

Loki could see the small corner of her mouth twitch slightly in her smile. 

She was lying. 

"Why did you spare me, then?" he questioned further, "My life, especially, is not worth saving." 

This time, he noticed that she gave him another small smile. This time, her lips remained calm, her whole face serene in the warmth of the fire. 

"I made a promise." 

* * *

Frigga's blue eyes looked down at the lifeless bodies of the guards that once stood outside her son's cell. The door was still open, evidence that her son had indeed escaped his fate. In the cell, she could see the faint glitter of a key—left haphazardly on the stone floor. 

"Did Loki do this?" another guard asked, "I can't believe he got out!" 

Examining the guards again, she noticed that they had precise wounds at the center of their collarbones, an effective wound meant to kill. The guards would have had their hearts punctured, and died quickly. Such wounds were hard to execute, and known to those only proficient in anatomy. 

Her own words of wisdom from the night before echoed through her mind. A sickening feeling crawled through her body, sending a chill down her now paled face… 

Eir took her advice. 

* * *

Red eyes looked hungrily down at the broken Bifrost where his armored feet now lay. The glitter of the Bifrost was curiously unguarded, lacking a gatekeeper to protect it against the horrors of the universe. Looking towards the gilded city, his purple lips curled into a smile. 

"Attack." 

  



	11. Midgard

"Well this certainly _feels_ strange." Tony Stark remarked, looking at the red stone in his hand, "And you want me to do what exactly, Muscles?" 

"You mortals have technology Asgard has not." Thor explained, looking around Stark's extensive laboratory, "This stone…it has properties unknown. My father feared it, and I want to know why." 

Stark looked at the stone again with curiosity; it certainly was a strange stone. If he hadn't know better, he would liken it to a pricey ruby, or something that should belong in a museum. When he touched it, however, he knew it was no ordinary stone. Electricity seemed to pulse from the stone to his fingertips, almost like an unpleasant tingling sensation, and it seemed to give off a faint luminance. As he looked around his laboratory, he wondered if he even had an instrument appropriate enough to analyze the thing. 

"I will try." Tony agreed, unsure if he could give Thor the answers he wanted, "This may be something Banner would know more about." 

Tony watched as Thor sat down in one of his seats in a huff. Unlike their last meeting, the Asgardian looked rather nervous, scared even. To his side, he could see Jane examining the stone with a cautious curiosity. Obviously, something had happened on Asgard that was keeping the two unusually quiet. Quite frankly, he couldn't stand it. 

"Are there more?" Tony questioned, this time towards Jane, "Now call me crazy, but don't you think that if there are more, they should be together under capable hands? The Avengers are capable hands." 

This time, he could see Jane's honey brown eyes look to the floor—trying to avoid his questioning gaze. The woman played with the bottom of her shirt, seemingly trying to think of the next thing to say. Before she could come up with a believable lie, the God spoke again. 

"There are more, Man of Iron." Thor admitted, quietly. "My father thought it best to scatter them with Asgard's most trusted. I cannot guess where the others are." 

Stark watched with interest as Erik's eyes widened from across the room. Without another second, the man pulled out his laptop and started to click furiously at his keyboard. Walking over to him, Tony looked on with curiosity as the screen flipped through pages of astronomical data, charts, and pictures. 

"The other night, I recorded an astronomical occurrence consistent with intergalactic travel. We recorded the same information the first time Thor reached Earth. My lab is not the only lab, though." He explained, pointing to data on the flickering screen, "Kitami and Pulkovo Observatories recorded similar data. I assumed that they were false reports, but…" 

"Two of them?" Jane interrupted, "Thor, I thought we were going in three groups? We couldn't have all ended up here." 

Thor closed his eyes in thought, rubbing his forehead again. It would be foolish if they all decided to go to Midgard. Admittedly, it was a tame realm, and would have been appealing. Aside from the Avengers, the mortals were nonthreatening which was more than he could say of other realms. Still, he thought it strange that they would all end up here. 

"Well, have SHIELD monitor." Darcy suggested, drinking some coffee, "I know they're not the coolest group, but they did give me my iPod back. Besides, it won't take them long to find a group of tall, unacceptably attractive Norse Gods. No offense, but you stick out here." 

Sighing again, Thor nodded. As much as he didn't want SHIELD involved, he knew the organization could examine these occurrences Erik spoke of, and bring—whoever ended up here—back to him. Still, he couldn't imagine that his father could be wrong. If all the stones ended up on Midgard, he knew it would only bring the war to these mortals again, and that was the last thing he wanted. But what if Tony was right? What if the Avengers really could keep them safe? What if they could destroy whatever evil sought them out? 

He needed to find these stones. 

* * *

Green eyes cast themselves over the figure lying close to the dying fire with intrigue; their body was surrendered to a deep sleep, their breathing slow and even next to the bright embers. The dark, long hair of its owner obscured most of his view, but out from her locks he could see the faint traces of a hand. In her fragile fingers, he could see a small pouch laced between them, held to her chest like a treasure. 

Suddenly, their conversation from the pervious night entered his tired mind. Had she really spared his life because she made a pathetic promise to his brother? He knew Eir well, and he had doubts that she would be so merciful. Still, some part of him wanted to believe her—and he didn't know why. Perhaps he was enticed by the thought that _someone_ forgave him. 

Laughing to himself for a moment, he realized what a ridiculous notion that was. Eir would never forgive him for many things, some of which even _he_ was ashamed of, so her sudden mercy was curious to say the least. Shaking the thoughts out of his head, he decided to shake his own guilt away and focus on his unexpected savior. 

Focusing his eyes on the small pouch in her hand, he crawled slowly over the cold ground towards the sleeping figure. He could see her warm breath condensing in the cold air with each deep breath she took, her body shivering from the chill. Taking a deep breath, he put a hand towards hers and attempted to unwind her grip. Furrowing his brow, he ground his teeth as her grip only became tighter, her nails still glittering from the party the other night. 

Finally, with some effort, he managed to take the pouch from her freezing, copse-like hands only to be met with shocked golden eyes. Before she could speak, he placed a rough hand over her mouth, his knee holding her down on the frozen ground. 

"You lying little prat!" he growled, looking in the pouch, his face illuminating with an eerie green iridescence, "Where did you get this!?" 

Moving his hand to her throat, he met her squinted eyes with his own. Under his knee, he could feel her heartbeat quicken, and her breathing become angrier. He had to admit, it pleased him greatly. 

" _You're_ mad at a lie, Loki?" she questioned, "Oh, how precious." 

He choked her harder. 

"Answer the question!" 

"Your father." She finally admitted, closing her eyes at the pain, "Someone wants the set." 

Loki's eyes widened at the realization that he was right. Thanos was attacking Asgard not only to punish him, but also to acquire the rest of the Infinity Gems. Looking down at the stone in the bag again, he noticed that it was solitary—its family missing. Sending a curious glance down towards the woman's eyes, he loosened his grip on her throat—admiring the handprint he left behind. 

"Do you have any idea what this is?" He asked her angrily, "Where are the others?!" 

Eir just brought a hand to his leather-clad leg and tried to push him off of her, only to have his free hand grab her wrist painfully, his knee digging further into her chest. Closing her eyes in defeat, she let out a sigh before matching his furious green eyes. 

"Of course." She whispered, "Odin trusted me with it. He believed my powers to best control it. As for the others, I know not their location." 

Standing up angrily, he threw the bag towards her with force. He couldn't believe that that fool gave the Infinity Gems to people! Thanos would only grow angrier at the scavenger hunt he would have to complete, and every realm would pay for Odin's stunt. Not only that, he was certain that Thanos wouldn't hesitate murdering every gem holder to get his desired power. Odin might have well just condemned the gems' guardians to death. 

"Did you spare me thinking I could reason with Thanos?" Loki finally asked bitterly, "What, so when he finds you I can save you? Do you honestly think he will be cordial towards me? If so, you're delusional." 

Eir's eyes burned into his. 

"I already told you, I made a promise." She growled, "Besides, once I learn to control—" 

Loki couldn't hold back his laughter. 

" _Control it?"_ he questioned with a smile, "The soul gem will destroy you long before that, Eir. Whatever that fool told you was a lie, I swear to you. The Soul Gem hungers for souls, and it will take yours—it craves a host. You're naïve if you think you can control _it. It_ will control you." 

Eir looked down at the stone in the bag and closed her eyes. She would be lying if she said she didn't feel the sentience it possessed, and Loki's words had awakened a fear in her that she had managed to keep at bay until now. Still, she didn't want to show any weakness towards him. If Odin trusted that she could wield it—protect it—then she would. 

"I'm keeping it, Loki." She said forcefully, "I would rather suffer the fate of protecting this stone, than have been found without it." 

Grinding his teeth again, Loki turned away from her defiant glare. He supposed that logic was sound. The other gem bearers would know she yielded this one, and if Thanos caught her without it…well, he knew the torture he would put her through would have her begging for Death's release—and Thanos loved to have people begging for his Love. 

Without saying another word, he started out of the cave. If they were to keep the stone, they would have to keep moving. They hand to find better shelter, and figure out where they had ended up. Looking out at the blinding snow, he let out a heavy sigh. 

He just prayed they weren't on Midgard. 

* * *

Nick Fury rubbed his forehead forcefully as he looked at the scene in front of him. It hadn't even been three months and Asgard had already brought trouble back to Earth. When he received the fateful phone call from Erik Selvig, he knew he was in for a headache—he just didn't imagine it would be one of this caliber. 

"I am astounded by your stupidity." Fury growled, looking at the glowing stone that lay before him, "An intergalactic maniac is looking for these stones and you decide to bring it here! Hasn't Earth suffered enough from your Asgardian trouble?!" 

Thor looked down at his hands as he sat at a large conference table in SHIELD's headquarters. He had to admit, Nick Fury had a point. Midgard did not deserve to be burdened by the troubles of Asgard again but…truthfully, he didn't know where else to go. No other realm could give him the answers he sought, or the protection he needed…no other realm would have been safe for Jane. 

"I offer my sincere apologizes, Lord Fury." Thor whispered, his blue eyes meeting Nick's angry brown, "But I had little choice. Midgard has minds that are unmatched in the realms. Surely, someone can provide answers." 

Nick looked at the red stone again and let out a sigh. To his right, Maria gave Thor a soft smile. 

"We have contacted Dr. Banner." Maria explained, "The stone emits radiation, and I am confident he can provide you answers. Still, the fact that there are others is troubling. Who else has stones? Do we know their locations?" 

"I know not where they could have gone, Lady Maria." Thor admitted, ashamed he had no other information, "But those who have the stones are trusted Asgardians. My father would not place such power in incapable hands." 

Nick's stern eye gave a look to the God that told him to continue. 

"Lady Sif and the Warrior's Three have two of the stones." Thor explained, "Heimdall and Eir have the last two. We were to travel in three groups." 

Nick closed his eyes again in frustration. He couldn't believe that this was happening again. 

"And how many recordings did we get, Dr. Selvig?" 

"Two others-one in Japan and one in Russia." The doctor explained sheepishly, "I had sent both observatories inquiries regarding the data, and after reviewing the numbers, I can confirm they were legitimate events." 

Jane gave Thor's hand under the table a small squeeze as she watched Nick Fury become visibly upset with the information. Sending the God of Thunder a small smile, she tried to send him reassurance. Instead, the face she was net with was one full of sorrow and regret. No longer was this the laughing, charming man she came to love. Instead, a broken god sat in his place. 

"Is Loki a threat?" Maria asked, writing information down on a piece of paper, "We need to know how many men to deploy." 

Jane could feel her heart breaking for Thor as she watched his discomfort over Loki's mention. Biting his bottom lip, Thor gave a sad look towards SHIELD's second in command. 

"Though my parent reassure me he will be safe, I fear he will fall with the rest of Asgard." Thor explained in a tone hardly above a whisper, "Loki isn't a threat anymore." 

This time, Jane felt Thor grab her hand tighter…almost wishing his words weren't true. 

"Agent Barton and Romanov are already stationed in Russia on holiday." Fury explained to the group in front of him, "We can send Rodgers to Japan. The sooner we find these other Asgardians, the safer Earth will be." 

To his right, Maria sent him a questioning glance. 

"Are you really going to send a World War two solider to Japan, Sir?" Maria asked incredulously, "Do you really think that's smart?" 

Thinking thoughtfully, Nick shook his head. 

"We can figure out who to deploy later, Maria." He shot back angrily, "In the meantime, you all are to stay out of trouble. We will contact you when the others are found. Until then, do not draw unnecessary attention to yourselves. You are dismissed." 

Standing up from his seat, Thor sent a grateful look towards Erik and Jane. With Asgard in peril-with his brother given a death sentence-these two made up the only family he had left. He had failed in so many ways on Asgard…failed to be a good prince, to be a good brother. The least he could do was protect Earth and the people he loved. Sending a fake smile back to the woman who held his hand in hers, he decided: 

He would not fail again. 

* * *

Loki covered his eyes as he looked ahead towards the endless sea of blinding snow. Behind him, he could see Eir wrapping her cloak tighter and the seemingly endless trail of their footprints. They had been walking for what seemed like ages, and had seen little in the form of life. Instead, the only sights and sounds the Prince had seen included the occasional broken trees and the chattering of his companion's teeth. 

Of the nine realms, he knew of a few that held landscapes such as this. However, the landscape in this land was more tame than Niffleheim or Jotunheim…in fact, he didn't know of a land that had such a tame, barren place like the one they now stood upon. Walking ahead, he stopped as he noticed the sound of snow-crunched steps cease behind him. Instead, what stood stopped in their shallow holes stood a concentrating Eir. 

His mouth opened to chastise the woman, only to be halted when he realized she was trying to hear something. Her gold eyes widened, moving across the landscape as she moved her long dark hair behind her ear. Finally, her golden orbs met his green with a small smile on her face. 

"Do you not hear that?" 

The man concentrated on the landscape around him, cautious of Eir's comment. To his surprise, a sharp screech could he heard amongst the silence. It was not a malicious sound—no—instead it sounded mechanical…inorganic. In the distance, he could see a small change in landscape, a small dip in the snow. Ahead of them, dark against the white of the snow, laid strange metallic beams. 

"These are curious." Loki muttered to himself, touching a hand to the device, "It shakes." 

Being pulled back, Loki noticed that a strange machine came towards them—blowing a large horn which each passing moment. Gripping his hands tight, he closed his eyes and kicked some snow towards the tracks in front of him in anger. He bit his lip, tasting his own blood, as he tried to hold back the stream of profanity that he wanted to scream. Of all the places in the nine realms to end up… 

It had to be Midgard. 

* * *

Thanos smiled as his hands broke the elegant latch to Odin's famous weapons vault. In the distance, instead of the beautiful music the Royal Palace was known for, he heard the desperate screams of servants and handmaidens as his men attacked. Instead of the upbeat singing, he heard pleads for help and the frantic last prayers. He could hear the blood spilling on the gilded floor. He could hear the sickly sweet symphony of terror. 

And he loved it. 

But what he loved more, what he craved, was glowing ahead of him. In front of him, he could see the faint glitter of gold that he came here for. Along the knuckles of the gilded gauntlet, five gems sparkled back at him. Smiling to himself, he picked up the relic and relished the feeling of the cold metal in his large hands. His whole life led up to this moment…after the insertion of the final gem, the gem he guarded with his life, he would rule the galaxy. 

Slipping the gauntlet over his right hand, he carefully inserted the final blue gem to rest along with its family. He watched with satisfaction as the gem glowed brightly, seemingly content with being returned to its home. Examining the other stones, however, he realized they were not behaving in a similar fashion. In fact… 

They didn't glow at all. 

Feeling his heart beat faster, Thano's shaking fingers detached the red stone and crushed it between his fingers as if it was glass. His yellow eyes widened as the red dust fell to the floor in a glittery cascade. Surely these gems were beautiful, but magic was not destroyed so easily. 

Screaming, he returned the Mind Gem to his person and threw the fake across the room. Breathing heavily, he decided that he was going to pay the Royal Family a visit. Eventually, no matter how powerful, everyone gave into his torture. Eventually, he had everyone begging for Death. 

Tonight, the Royals would be begging. 

* * *

  



	12. Beginnings

Blue eyes looked up towards the glittering lights in the dark, New Mexico sky above. They fell against the dark canvas, flickering like tiny dancers eons away. Looking down towards the warm mug in his hands, Thor let out a shaky sigh. Somewhere in that beautiful expanse was his home. Somewhere, amongst all the glitter, was a family he was helpless to save—friends who were begging for help. 

And yet here he sat, in a quiet safety, waiting for the storm in Asgard to pass. Surely, the danger would subside in time, but then what? What would be return to? Would the grand towers still stand? Would the expansive gardens grow unscathed? Somehow, Thor knew that the place he would return to would be a painful place—one a skeleton of the home he once knew. 

Closing his eyes, he tried to quiet his mind. In his chest, however, the choking pain of guilt moved unabashed. It had been crawling, clawing through his being since they found refuge on Midgard. In the waking hours he tried to tame the beast for Jane's sake, but at night -in his solitude-it came slithering back with a vengeance. At night, his failures could not be ignored. 

"I knew I would find you out here." 

Turning around, the God of Thunder met the warm smile of Jane Foster. Returning her smile, he watched as she sat down in the lawn chair next to him—the chill of the night already casting a rosy hue over her cheeks. Across her face, despite the smile, her hazel eyes reflected worry. 

"Why won't you talk to me?" she whispered, taking his hand in hers, "Don't shut me out. You don't have to do this alone." 

Blue eyes looked down towards the small hand in his and sighed. He didn't want to look weak in front of her—he was supposed to be the strong one. Still, there was something in her eyes, something about the pressure of her hand on his, that made him want to tell her everything. He had seen the violence and blood of a thousand battles, but he had never felt as vulnerable as he did now. 

"I'm scared." He admitted, avoiding her gaze, "I fear for what I will go home to…if anything." 

Jane grabbed his hand harder as he went on. 

"I know not what it is like to be alone." He whispered, "My family…my brother…" 

"Don't talk like that, Thor." She said with a small smile, "You will never be alone." 

Looking back towards the sky above, despite the gnawing pain in his chest, he somehow knew she was right. Trying to send a smile towards the women, he held her hand tighter—the glow of the small fire he had made scattering against her features in a beauty unmatched in Asgard. 

"Thank you, Jane." 

* * *

"Are you two running off as well?" 

Green eyes closed as the nearly empty train cabin gave another violent jerk. In front of him, sitting on the cold metal which made up their hideaway, sat a young couple dressed in the warmest clothes they owned. To his right, Eir looked towards the dirty cabin floor—trying hard to hide her eyes from their questioning view. 

"Pardon?" Loki asked questioningly. 

"Running off… eloping?" the man asked again, his dirty blond hair peeking out from under his fur hat, "We are. Going to start a new life in Moscow." 

Loki looked over towards the couple again. Their clothes, though warm, looked patched and old. Holes littered their mittens, and their outfits looked as though they had not been washed in ages. Looking towards himself and his companion, he realized that their attire certainly looked suspicious. Though warn and dirty, their clothes were of an elegance not of this world. 

"Not quite." Loki admitted, his mind calculating, "I fear we are just good acquaintances." 

"Too bad!" The woman said with a hearty laugh, "Moscow is a great place for a new beginning." 

Loki looked towards the couple again as they held hands. Dirty fingernails popped through scrappy gloves as they held onto the faded knitted mittens of the woman. Her plump cheeks smiled towards the man, her grey eyes glittering with a happiness he found disgusting. Returning her smile, the man sent her an incomplete grin with a warmth that Loki wanted to obliterate. Casting his emerald eyes towards the woman next to him, he noticed that she was unsuccessfully attempting to warm her discolored fingers against her lace gown, trying to ward off the inevitable frostbite. 

Not a second later, golden eyes widened as a pool of blood started to trickle down the grooves in the metallic cargo cabin. Putting a hand to her mouth, her breath caught in her chest as the man's dirty blond hair turned a deadly burgundy, and the once smiling eyes of the women remained fixed in her direction. Looking towards Loki, she gasped as she saw him take off the man's jacket and replace it with his own. 

"I suggest you work with haste, Eir." Loki muttered, putting the fur hat atop his own dark hair, "I suspect you wish not to die in this cold. You must do what is necessary." 

Eir placed a hand to the woman's wool jacket, while the small glitter of a wedding ring caught her eye. 

"They were planning to wed, Loki." Eir whispered, drawing her hand away in disgust, "How coul—" 

"I did them a favor." He hissed bitterly, putting on the remainder of the garments, "I saved them from the inevitability of a loveless marriage. I saved them from the pain of adultery. They owe me." 

The woman looked down at the bodies again. A sick feeling found its way to her chest as she looked down at their faces that were so recently full of life. Her heart beat faster as she looked down at the fingers, once entwined, laced with blood. 

"I will not hesitate to do the same to you." Loki whispered, gripping her shoulder forcefully, "Now, get on with it." 

Closing her eyes, Eir took the jacket off the woman and placed it on her own body—it was still warm. 

She wanted to throw up. 

* * *

Frigga's blue eyes looked towards the French doors that led into the room her and Odin shared. From outside, she could hear the sounds of weapons and the screams of her people. Looking down at the elegant dagger in her hands, she knew it was only going to be a matter of time before they came for her…before they tried to find Odin. 

She tried to tell herself to not be afraid—that the plan her husband told her about would work—but she could not shake the fear. Instead, she sat in her room trying to relish the last few moments she had, hoping that whomever finally came to her would make sure the torture was quick. Trying to drown out the screams from outside her sphere of silence, she was suddenly very happy that both of her sons were spared of this hell. 

Looking towards the doors again, her eyes widened as they shook wildly. Standing up slowly, grabbing the artistic design on her dagger tighter, she took a defiant stance—ready to face whatever had come for her. With a small click, Frigga was brought face to face with the being who had started this assault on Asgard—his purple lips twisting into a smile. 

"Well, isn't this a pleasant surprise?" Thanos smiled, "Surely the Queen would be able to provide the answers I seek." 

Frigga held onto her weapon tighter as the large being walked over to her vanity. From across the room, his glowing yellow eyes cast an intimidating glance her way. She could almost feel his stare boring into her soul, stripping her of any courage she had left. She could see the corners of his mouth twitch again, noticing the small weapon in her old hands. 

"I could kill you now, you know." Thanos whispered, "So before we make this harder than it needs to, why don't you tell me where your son is?" 

Blinking a few times, Frigga looked back at the being with a soft confusion etched on her worn features. Sensing this, Thanos let out a small laugh. 

"That coward Loki." He elaborated, "The scum of Asgard is nowhere to be found. Curious, really. I am certain you helped." 

Frigga could feel her heart drop as she looked into Thanos' eyes. A deep sorrow overcame her as she realized just how entangled and lost her son had been. How could he have involved himself with such monsters? How could she have not noticed the path he was falling down? Looking back at the man, she spoke: 

"I know not the location of my sons." She admitted, "Loki has been lost for some time." 

The Queen jumped as the man broke her elegant vanity in one smash. 

"You're lying!" He screamed, grabbing her arm roughly, "You know exactly where that rat is!" 

Thanos could feel the Asgardian tremble under his grip, the beating of her heart echoing loudly through the expansive room. Shaking her roughly, her blue eyes shot back to his in fear—an emotion he most coveted. 

"Then tell me where Odin is." Thanos growled, "Surely the old man knows where the stones are." 

Instead of answering, Frigga just looked at the man defiantly. She knew that, while she may die here today, the answers to his questions would fade with her. At least with her demise, Asgard had a fighting chance. If this man knew where Odin was…where Thor was…Asgard would be lost forever. 

"I had a feeling it would end this way." Thanos spat in her face, "I will get these answers one way." 

As she felt his hands tighten against her, she could feel a small prayer involuntarily leaving her lips. She was praying that Odin was right—that Asgard could be saved. She was praying she did enough good in her life to make it to Valhalla. She was praying that Thor and Loki would be safe—that they would both find the peace they needed. She desperately prayed that she wouldn't be judged for all of her failures in life—her failures to those who meant the most to her. There was so much she prayed for… so much she still needed to say. 

But then her world went dark. 

* * *

Loki's hand grabbed the faded mitten that now adorned his companion. Thanking his luck for the shade of the night, he pulled his tired savior through the twisting cracked roads of this large Midgardian city. Even in the dark, he could see intimidating large buildings and the strange colorful architecture that littered the town. He did not recall seeing a city such as this on his last visit, and he prayed that in the waking hours they would go unrecognized. 

Scanning the surroundings with his green eyes, he cursed the fact that they were surrounded by a plethora of foreign script. Though not bound by the linguistic shackles Midgardians were, he was still a prisoner to their fondness for strange writings. In the sea of letters, he tried to figure out a place that would offer shelter—for his fatigued body was screaming for sleep. 

Finally eyeing a small sign with a picture of a bed, he pulled the women through the broken door. After blinking a few times, trying to adjust his green eyes to the sudden brightness, an old woman finally came into view—the chimes of a bell above the door still singing their song. 

Loki could feel the woman's prying eyes examining them as if they were an experiment. She had a critical look to her face, seemingly picking apart every inconsistency with their attire. Looking down at his clothes, he certainly knew they looked out of place. Though warm, the mortals' clothes were ill fitting. He knew that, compared to these Midgardians they stood out. For their sake, he hoped that is wasn't too much. 

"My lady, do you offer shelter?" Eir whispered from behind him, "I fear we haven't much money but…" 

Before Eir could finish, the women interrupted them with an uncharacteristically warm smile and pushed a rusty key towards them. Pulling out some bills from his pocket, Loki was shocked when the woman stopped his hand before he could place the money on the table. 

"For you, no charge." 

Sending a curious glance towards Eir, he simply nodded a thank you towards the woman and followed the other Asgardian up the stairs. In her pocket, for a split second, he could have sworn he saw the ghostly hue of the Soul Gem. Casting his eyes back towards the woman at the counter, he noticed she had gone back to her critical self. In front of him, the Goddess of Medicine simply sent him an oblivious smile—her gold eyes glittering in the light. 

It had started. 

* * *

"So explain to me again how we know this is the right place?" 

Maria Hill rolled her eyes as she walked through the crowded streets of Kitama, Japan. Next to her, the famous Captain America remained fascinated by all the new sights and people he was meeting on their small excursion. Every so often she would have to pull him away from fans who rattled on about what a great hero he was. 

"Like I said before, Rodgers." Maria explained, keeping focused on the task, "Dr. Selvig received information that there was intergalactic space travel near here. There is an observatory not far from here. We have had some eye witnesses reports claiming there is a man here that has some unique features." 

Maria watched as Steve put another chocolate dipped biscuit in his mouth and looked around. 

"Do we know if he's dangerous?" he asked while unwrapping another pouch, "I mean, when we first met Thor things got a little hairy." 

Before Maria could entertain the Captain's question, her attention was diverted to a group of chatty girls laughing their way. 

"Sa~, ano hito wa hontou ni kireina me ga atta yo!" 

"Contakuto kamoshirenakatta…" 

"Uun, hontou no me desho!" 

Pulling Rodgers away from another admirer, she dragged him towards a small food stand where a group of girls had congregated. In the middle, was a beautiful man whose dark skin was a striking contrast with his stunning golden eyes. She watched as the man sent a brilliant smile towards the group, talking to them in perfect, albeit old style, Japanese. Around his neck, was a radiant purple stone. 

Putting a hand to her communicator, she spoke. 

"Director Fury, we have found Heimdall." 

  



	13. Caught

" _I can tell you are trying so hard to ignore me, Asgardian. I don't know why you fear me so?"_ A voice echoed, _"It won't take long, and it won't be too painful. I can tell your body is tired…just give in. Everything will be over soon…"_

Trying to breathe, a wave of panic came over the Goddess of Medicine as she realized her chest had tightened. Echoing loudly in her head, she could hear the frantic beating of her own heart—deafening in the cold room. Trying to open her eyes, she grabbed the sheets in fear when she realized she couldn't. Caught in a suffocating darkness, the Asgardian could hear a laughing voice again. 

_"Don't panic, my dear. All I need is your body. I am sure your mind will go somewhere pleasant…"_ it said in a calm voice, a smirk evident in its voice, _"All the pains of this world will be gone soon enough, Asgardian. I thank you for your cooperation."_

Eir could feel a scream trapped in her throat, trying desperately to escape. Hearing her heart beat quicker, a fear washed over her as she felt herself go dangerously light headed—the sound of the voice and the sounds of her panic becoming more muffled. On her cheeks, she could feel the warmth of her tears as she spiraled further away from consciousness. 

Suddenly, however, her eyes shot open as a bright stinging pain washed across her face. The scream, once locked, escaped her lips and her chest hurt as she took a painful, hungry breath of air. Turning her sore neck back, her panicked eyes were met with a pair of concerned green ones. Looking down at her hands, she could see a deep burn in one of them…roughly the shape of the furiously glowing green stone that now lay screeching on the cold wooden floor. 

"I knew this would happen soon enough." Loki whispered, looking down at the deep wound that adorned the woman's hand, "You look sickly, Eir. You can't deny its power over you." 

Blinking a few times, the woman looked down towards the screeching stone on the floor…its facets shaking across the dust in an angry fashion. She would be lying if she said she hadn't felt the power the stone held over her. She would be lying if she said she hadn't heard the curious whispers now and again. Glancing at her hand, however, she realized that ignoring the stone Odin had trusted her with was no longer a viable option. Loki's painful words echoed all too loudly in her head—it would control _her,_ not the other way around. 

Taking a deep breath, she watched as cold hands grabbed her injured one. Narrowing her eyes curiously, she watched as the fibers in her palm stitched themselves back together. Muscle covered her bones once again, and a new layer of skin left her healed—a painfully noticeable scar the only mark left. 

"Forgive me, Eir." Loki sighed, looking at his work, "I fear I am not a master like you." 

Moving her fingers to her palm, a small smile made its way to her face as she realized that she was fixed. 

"Thank you." She whispered, voice broken from the ordeal, "I must work harder to control it. I thought I was progressing but—" 

To this Loki laughed. 

"Don't be foolish." He warned almost mockingly, "And what of next time? What will become of your mind when I am not there? I can promise you this—you won't escape." 

Golden eyes looked down towards the stone on the floor again. For now, the screeching had subsided, but she could still feel its malicious power tingling throughout her body. She didn't want to admit it, but Loki was right. If she did not find a way to control it—or dispose of it—soon, she would lose herself to its mysterious power. Feeling defeated, she watched as the prince picked up the luminous gem and placed it in his pocket. 

"Be hasty, Eir." He muttered, looking out the window, "We must leave this place." 

* * *

"Well, it's giving off Alpha particles, but that really isn't dangerous." Bruce explained, reading the spectroscopy results, "What is more interesting, though, is the internal structure." 

Tony looked interested as the famous Bruce Banner waved him over towards a microscope that he was sure cost more than even his most expensive cars. Looking on the screen, he noticed a number of structures laced together in an impossibly intricate pattern. In all his time in the sciences, he had never seen anything quite like it. 

"I know, right?" Bruce smiled, "Our tests show that the internal molecular structure is more intricate than that of adamantium or diamond. It has elements in it that we don't have here. Amazing, really!" 

Tony Stark looked at the screen again and then back down at the glowing red stone. Based on what Bruce was saying, it seemed as though these stones were indestructible…and dangerous. Since someone was after them, it was not a viable option to destroy them. It seemed like the best they could do was protect, and learn more about their abilities before the inevitable altercation happened. 

"Isn't this amazing, Stark?" Banner asked with a smile, "As a scientist, I always knew my life would be a continual learning process, but with everything brought from Asgard…I'm beginning to see just how little we actually know. It's exciting." 

Tony smiled at his colleague and let out a laugh. 

"You're being dramatic, Banner." He smirked, "You should have realized how little we knew when you turned into a not-so-jolly green giant." 

Tony watched as the other scientist gave him a playfully annoyed face. Walking around SHIELD's extensive lab, he saw a number of interesting things. There were lists of data from Selvig, there were countless X-rays of people who had metal laced across their bones, and even some data about his own suits. In fact, he was going to have to smuggle those out… 

"I heard we are getting another stone, too." Bruce explained, typing in some information, "I hear this one deals with space-time. I am so excited. It would unleash the secrets physics has been missing and—" 

"So wait, there are even more Asgardians here now?" Tony asked raising his eyebrows, "What does SHIELD expect to do with all of them? They throw a fit dealing with Thor. Besides, if I need to listen to more 'thy' or 'thou' I will honestl—" 

Before Tony could finish, Bruce interrupted him by greeting a lab coat clad woman. She was a tiny thing, her spunky bob hairstyle bouncing as she walked towards them with a silver box. Flashing them both a smile and adjusting her glasses, she presented the case to Dr. Banner. 

"Director Fury wanted this delivered to you." She said-her brown eyes filled with excitement, "The Asgardian Heimdall was found with it." 

"Thank you, Kate!" Bruce grinned, opening the case to see a radiant purple gem. Noticing Tony's smirking face, Bruce blushed and rubbed the back of his head. 

"Tony, this is Dr. Katherine Waynesboro. She is my lab assistant." 

Tony shook the hand of the bubbly woman and watched as she sent a small glance towards Bruce. He had watched too many movies to know where this relationship was going to go. Excusing himself, he gave a wave to the duo before leaving the state-of-the-art laboratory. It was all right, he supposed… 

He had an Asgardian he needed to meet. 

* * *

Thanos let out a breathy sigh as he looked at the environment around him. Having left Asgard in pieces, he now found himself on the dark world of Svartalheim—the light of the flames around him illuminating his gilded accessories. Looking ahead, towards the end of the glorious floating staircase before him, he could see the vague shadow of a figure. Around him, he could hear the shuffling of other Dark Elves, trying to hide from his prying eye. Finally coming into sight, a wide smile found its way to Thanos' face as he saw his ally. 

"Well, this is certainly a surprise." A satisfied voice rang out, "What do I owe the pleasure?" 

Yellow eyes looked at the bicolored man before him. His platinum locks were bright against the fire around them, and his smile was one filled with an excitement he had not seen in some time. 

"I come looking for Loki." Thanos explained, "I know well you are allies." 

Thanos watched as Malekith looked thoughtful for a moment before shaking his head. 

"I fear I have seen him not." The dark elf explained, "I heard whispers that he was to be executed for his stunt on Midgard." 

Clenching his fists, Thanos let out an angry grunt before sending his yellow gaze back to the ruler. 

"Like all vile creatures, it seems the filth has slipped through the cracks." Thanos muttered, casting a gaze to the flames again, "The gems, too, are gone—though I know not where. A number of Asgardians were left unaccounted for…they must have them." 

Malekith looked down at the purple being in front of him with interest. Thanos certainly wanted the stones, and would stop at nothing to get them. However, Thanos was not one for patience—and going on a scavenger hunt throughout the realms was not to his liking. Unlike him, Thanos did not possess such a powerful means of travel. A smirk came across the elf's lips as an idea came to mind. 

"I know of a number of leads, Lord Thanos." Malekith grinned, "I would mind not going on this quest for you…if it was profitable, of course." 

Thanos gave a look that urged the other man on. 

"You know well my desire for one of Odin's treasures." Malekith elaborated, "I pray it would not take much effort for a powerful being such as yourself to obtain such a thing. In return, I would seek out your gems-and that traitor Loki." 

A grin found its way to the Titan as the Dark Elf explained his plan further. With Malekith as his ally, he would be able to find the stones much quicker—and avoid any risk that may arise from his less than graceful planetary visits. With stealth on their side, the Universe could succumb to its demise with a whisper instead of a scream. 

Giving an agreeable nod, Thanos watched as the being in front of him disappeared in a gust of mist, leaving him with only the company of Svartalheim's dancing flames. 

* * *

"So what exactly is this guy capable of?" Nick Fury asked, looking at the newly found Asgardian on the security camera, "Is he dangerous?" 

"Miss Hill assured me he was quite the gentleman." Selvig explained, "As for abilities…Heimdall is known to be Asgard's gatekeeper. He is empowered with senses that are enhanced even by Asgardian standards. It is said he can hear and see everything." 

Nick Fury narrowed his eyes as he looked at the Asgardian. The ability to see and hear everything around him was certainly an unsettling ability. It was unlikely that they could keep any secrets around the man. As such, containing him in the world's largest secret organization was unwise. Rubbing his forehead, Fury watched the screen again as Thor and Jane came into view. 

"Heimdall!" Thor bellowed, embracing the man in a tight hug, "I am pleased to see you are well!" 

Nick watched as the Gatekeeper gave the God of Thunder a bright smile. 

"As I am to see you!" Heimdall remarked, kissing Jane Foster on the hand, "I am elated that I am not alone on this planet." 

To this, the director watched as Thor gave his comrade a confused look. 

"I know not what you mean, Heimdall." Thor muttered, "I thought we were to travel in groups." 

Heimdall blinked a few times—his glittering eyes bright from the lights above—before giving Thor an equally confused look. 

"I traveled alone, Prince Thor." The man explained slowly, "Lady Eir assured me she had a way off Asgard." 

Thor could feel his eyes widen as a wave of sick realization washed over him. Eir was not known to be a proficient traveler, though gifted in the magical arts as she was. Outside of Heimdall, there was only one other being that he knew to have such intimate knowledge of Asgard's routes—and that being was to be locked in Asgardian prison. 

"Jane, we need to speak with Fury urgently." 

* * *

Loki looked down at the hot liquid in his hands and let out a sigh. He had been in custody of the Soul Gem for less than a day, and he could already feel himself becoming ill. He could feel an unsettling presence washing over him, constantly trying to fight him for control. Since he ripped it out of Eir's hand, he had felt sick. To be honest, he didn't know how she had lasted so long with the strange gem before succumbing to it. 

His eyes moved away from the glass for a moment and looked at the Asgardian across from him. Even now, he couldn't fathom why she had spared his life. He had known the woman for centuries-he knew her better than most-and he knew when she was lying…she didn't save him for virtue of some filthy promise with his brother. No—there was something else, and he couldn't think of what. Eir was not known to forgive, and he had certainly done some unforgivable things. To put it simply, he was frustrated. 

What did she have to gain by sparing his life? Nothing. In fact, he was sure it would only bring her pain. If she made it back to Asgard—and to be honest, he wasn't sure they would—she would be persecuted for sparing his life. Even here, these Midgardians would treat her as a criminal. Eir was strong-willed-more so than most of Asgard's women-but he knew these Midgardians would break her. 

And that thought, for reasons he didn't want to admit, unsettled him greatly. 

Before he could let his mind contemplate further, however, his green eyes widened as a large crash caused the woman across from him to jump—spilling some of her drink on the small table they shared. Looking outside the window of the small café, he watched as a number of mortals ran towards the origin of the sound, screams escaping their lips. 

Crashing through the small café door, a hysterical man with windswept hair came in screaming. 

"Is there a doctor?! Please, someone call an ambulance!" 

Before he could stop her, the Asgardian across from him was gone. Biting his lip, he could feel the anger in him grow as he watched the woman run after the man. Eir was going to make it all too obvious they were not from around here, and when they were finally found… 

He didn't even want to think of the horrors they would face. 

* * *

Golden eyes widened as their owner approached a crash site. In front of her, there was a strange, large vehicle that had crashed into the side of a building. Within the rubble, she could see a woman screaming for help over the body of a small child. Standing behind the kneeling, grieving mother stood the shadowing figure of a boy. Eir could feel her heart beat faster as she approached the scene- the ghostly figure sending her a concerned look. 

As she approached the woman, she could hear the desperate prayers to save her child. She could hear the desperate pleads to take her life instead. She could see the glittering tears of a mother falling on the child's bloodied face as she shook him, only to see no response. Sensing her approach, the woman turned to her—blue eyes filled with a sorrow Eir had seen far too often in her lifetime. 

"I'm a doctor." The Goddess explained, putting a hand on the woman's shoulder, "Please." 

Eir watched as the woman reluctantly stepped away from her child's broken body. In the corner of her eyes, she could see Loki walking towards the scene with a dissatisfied look etched across his face. Looking down towards the small boy, she could feel her heart breaking. Touching the boy's head, she could see blood rapidly pooling on her hands as his bright, blue eyes looked back at her—fixed and dilated. 

He was dead. 

Taking a deep breath, she looked at the small ghostly figure standing over his own body. There was a fear in his eyes that pained her, and while Loki would have her head, she knew what she needed to do. Glancing around her quickly, she put her hands towards the boy's chest and breathed life back into him. It was a delicate magic, ancient in nature, and it was one that had eluded all but her. From her hands, she could feel the blood rushing back into the child—she could feel the tissues regenerating, and finally-she could feel a heart beating. 

Suddenly, a gasp escaped the boy's lips as his blue eyes sprung open. Sitting back, Eir watched as the boy started to cry as his mother rushed over and pulled the boy into an impossibly tight embrace. Looking back to her, the woman started to cry tears of joy while stoking her child's unbroken skull. Before she could open her mouth, Eir felt herself pulled off by a familiar figure—fury evident in his emerald irises. 

Looking back while being pulled off, a wave of terror came over her as—in the middle of the dense crowd-a man pointed to them and spoke into a radio. 

They were caught. 

  



	14. Interrogation

Loki cursed under his breath as he pulled his Asgardian companion roughly through the winding streets. Back in the crowd of mortals, he could see the unmistakable image of a SHIELD agent—radio already calling out their location. It would only be a matter of hours—days at most—before the wretched organization had him in their hands once again. This time, he didn't think they would be as forgiving as they were last time… 

Casting a fleeting glance behind him, a wave of relief came over his face as he realized they were not being followed. Looking at the guilty eyes behind him, he pulled the woman around the corner of a building and slammed her against the wall harder than he intended. 

"Are you daft, Eir?" he growled, "Do you have any _idea_ what torture you have condemned us to!?" 

To his frustration, defiant eyes challenged his. 

"I couldn't let him die." 

Loki grabbed her arm tighter, taking pleasure in watching pain wash over her features. There was so much he wanted to make her hurt for—for getting them caught, for slowing them down…for saving his wretched life. Some part of him told him he should just kill her right there. Some part of him desperately wanted to watch that defiant spark leave her beautiful eyes. The monster within him wanted to watch the woman in front of him truly suffer. 

But as he looked at her hard glare, there was something else inside him silencing all those voices. A shadow of his former self, perhaps, was keeping those homicidal tendencies at bay. Gritting his teeth, he tightened his grip on the Asgardian. 

"I hate you." He spat, looking into her insolent expression, "I _hate_ you." 

Igniting his rage further, the woman just narrowed her eyes at him. 

"I know." She whispered, jaw tensing, "You've made that painfully cle-" 

Before she could finish, Eir's eyes widened as she watched Loki drop to the ground. In his side, there was a strange arrow that had caused the Prince to succumb to unconsciousness. Looking down the alley, the woman stepped back in fear as she saw a number of suited men with guns. At the forefront, a woman with fiery red hair and a man with a bow stood challengingly. 

"Step away, Miss." The man ordered, arrow pointing at her, "This doesn't need to escalate." 

Putting her hands up, the woman watched as time seemingly slowed. Casting a gaze down at Loki, she could feel her heart start to race as she was handcuffed and pulled away in the opposite direction. All around her, she could hear the chorus of loud sirens, radios and questions. Swallowing hard, she watched as a number of suited men pulled Loki's lifeless body into an unmarked van—a spark of fear radiating through her as they slammed the door loudly. 

She was alone. 

* * *

Frey watched with interest as a curious figure walked up the elegant steps of Alfheim's royal court. Narrowing his hazel eyes, Frey watched as a bicolored man came into view—his platinum hair stark against his blue and black face. He had heard of this being from others, and the words he had heard were not kind. When Malekith of the Dark Elves came looking for help, it usually meant that trouble was not far behind. Putting on a forced welcoming smile, the leader from Vanaheim greeted Malekith. 

"Lord Malekith, welcome!" Frey smiled, his golden locks glittering in Alfheim's sunlight, "Tis not often the Dark Elves and Light Elves meet." 

The King of the Light Elves watched as Malekith sent him a mischievous smile. Frey could tell that there was something very unsettling about this visit, and a quick look to his guards urged them to keep caution. Sitting back down on his throne, the Vanir watched as the dark elf took a bow. 

"Good Frey, I come seeking assistance in a pesky matter." Malekith explained, eyes surveying his surroundings, "It seems I am in the search for a small band of Asgardians. Having such close ties to Asgard, I hoped you would be of help." 

Narrowing his eyes at the man, Frey realized why he had sensed malice upon Malekith's arrival. Surely, this man was not working alone…such rats hardly did. Taking a deep breath, Frey sent a warm smile towards the dark figure before him. 

"I fear there are no Asgardians on Alfheim." Frey explained, "Our borders are secure, I assure you. If we become aware of any, I will be sure to send a messenger to fetch you. May I try Niffleheim? There were whispers of Asgardians there." 

Frey smiled as the man gave him a deep bow—his probing eyes looking deep into his. 

"Lord Thanos thanks you for your cooperation." Malekith added, a smile on his face, "I will trek to Niffleheim. Till another time, Lord Frey." 

The Vanir watched as Malekith disappeared in a mist faster than he appeared. Looking down towards one of his servants, the leader of the Light Elves gave them a somber sigh. Looking towards the spot where Malekith once was again, the man rubbed his forehead in frustration. Sending a glance back towards his eager servant, he spoke in barely a whisper. 

"Tell the Asgardians to leave Alfheim quickly." 

* * *

"Xavier says he is certain she is not a mutant, Sir." Maria Hill explained, "All evidence points to another Asgardian." 

Nick Fury sent a frustrated look towards his second in command as he continued to walk down the hall towards the interrogation room. 

"Has she said anything?" he asked, "Do we have any indication that she's dangerous?" 

"Not that we know of, Sir." Maria answered, "Though she is gaining some unnecessary attention. Dr. Curt Connors has been on the phone all day." 

"Tell him to keep his… _hand_ out of our business." Fury growled, opening the door to the interrogation room, "Contact Selvig, see what he knows about her and escort Thor to the detention bay. Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid." 

Nick Fury watched as the woman nodded to him before continuing down the hallway. Taking a deep breath, he opened the silver door and entered the bright room. Inside, he was shocked to see a particularly nonthreatening woman sitting at the table. Her eyes were downcast, staring at her hands. Acknowledging his arrival, Fury was shocked as a pair of gold eyes came to meet his own. An unsettling feeling overcame him as he was reminded of Heimdall and his great abilities. Cleaning his throat, he approached the woman. 

"So…a couple of our agents saw your little stunt in Moscow." He started, watching her avoid his gaze, "That was a pretty impressive feat for a doctor. Eye-witnesses swear the boy was dead." 

To his disappointment, she remained quiet. 

"I know a few doctors, and more often than not they like to play God." Fury explained, finally stopping in front of her, "I happen to think you're not just playing." 

Fury looked down at the woman seated in the interrogation chair. Her long, dark hair was a shocking contrast from her pale skin, and her eyes were spectacular. Still, the Director remained unsettled as he wondered just what this Asgardian was capable of doing. From his experience, he knew he couldn't underestimate someone from Asgard. After all, if Loki wanted her she was probably dangerous. 

"You're not going to talk?" Fury asked with an amused smile, "I promise, it will be easier if you cooperate." 

To his satisfaction, the woman sent him a challenging glare. 

"How do you know Loki?" he continued, "Did he kidnap you? Did he hurt you?" 

Though silent, the woman gave a small shake of her head. Blinking a few times, Fury looked back at the woman in front of him. A number of questions rang through his head—most importantly, if she wasn't kidnapped why was Loki there? He knew the man was capable of great evil, so if he kept her alive… 

"Who is he to you?" Nick asked slowly, "Did he threaten you? Was this an _order_?" 

The Goddess looked at him sternly, a defiance beaming from her exhausted alien eyes. 

"Is he a _friend_?" Nick offered, "A _lover_?" 

This time, though silent, the interrogator could see the faintest of movements on the woman's face. It was brief, and the man wasn't entirely sure it was real, but it was enough of an answer for the time being. Giving the woman a small smile, Nick Fury stood up from his chair—the screech of metal on metal harsh in the silence. 

"You'll talk soon enough." He concluded, "We have ways of breaking you. Soon, we will know everything." 

As he placed his hand on the doorway to leave, a grin found its way to his face as an impossibly weak whisper broke through the sea of silence. 

"Don't hurt him." 

Nick smiled again. 

Progress. 

* * *

Loki hissed as he opened his green eyes to a bright light—the pain in his head reeling. Slowly adjusting to the bright surrounding, he clenched his jaw as a sharp pain radiated from his side-an artifact from the strange Midgardian weapon used on him. Taking controlled breaths, the Prince finally managed to sit up from the cold floor—only to find himself, once again, encapsulated by a strange glass prison. 

Feeling a panic, his eyes fell down towards the clothes he was wearing. No longer was his body clad with the thick jacket of his Midgardian victim—no. He now found himself dressed in the very basic of attire…without the Soul Gem. Cursing under his breath, he realized that these Midgardian fools must have taken the gem for their own uses. For now, he could only hope that these humans would succumb to its powers. 

Sitting in the silence, Loki could feel a cold rush flush through his spine as an unsettling realization came over him. Closing his eyes, the man gripped his fists as he turned towards the other side of the cell. There, sitting with disappointment etched across his features was the last person he wanted to see. 

"Brother, why?" Thor whispered, his blue eyes filled with a sorrow, "Has Midgard not suffered enough from your villainy?" 

Clenching his jaw, Loki avoided his brothers judging gaze. Nothing he told Thor was going to make him believe his innocence. Nothing he could say to these Midgardians, either, would spare him the torture he was sure to endure. Looking back at his brother, Loki gave a sigh. 

"I chose not this path." Loki explained carefully, "I would have been content meeting my end on Asgard. Others had a different plan for me." 

Loki watched as Thor gave him a look of shock. In his blue eyes, Loki could see Thor's mind swimming through a number of scenarios. 

"So it _was_ Lady Eir." Thor settled, "I know not what you did to her, Loki, but I swear to you if you hurt her-" 

"Oh _please,_ you slay me." Loki interrupted with a laugh, "Do you truly think I coaxed her into this?" 

The God of Mischief looked on as Thor gave him a frustrated glance. It was a great feeling, really, seeing Thor so confused. The man truly wanted to see the good in everyone, and Loki loved to see the doubt written across his face. He loved to see that his brother didn't possess all the answers like he so erroneously thought. In truth, however, Loki couldn't claim to have them either. For now, he was content watching Thor squirm. 

"I do, Loki." Thor decided, "To the best of my knowledge, the Lady loathes you. I know not a good reason why she would risk her life to save yours." 

To this, the prisoner gave his brother an incredulous look. 

"She claims to be making good on her promise to you." Loki explained with satisfaction dripping from his voice, "Though you would be truly daft to believe _that_." 

A wicked smile crept across Loki's face as Thor became visibly more doubtful. During their time on Midgard, Loki had formulated a number of hypotheses as to why the Goddess of Medicine had saved his worthless life—some certainly more preposterous than others, given history. Still, he would never let his brother know. 

"I want to believe you, Loki." Thor whispered, sincerity in his words, "I want not to believe this is another play for the throne." 

This time, Loki couldn't hold back a hearty laugh. To his satisfaction, a low growl escaped the Thunder God's lips. Letting out a hiss of pain from his side, Loki sent a dark look to his brother. 

"Do you truly believe there will be a throne upon our return, Thor?" Loki asked, "If so, you are far denser than once thought. Asgard will be destroyed, if it has not already. You know this well, Brother. Stop lying to yourself!" 

Green eyes watched as Thor became visibly upset. Loki thought his brother was truly weak, having such affection for the people of Asgard. In fact, Loki could think of very few people who he would wish to save from Asgard's fate. Most on that surreal plane of existence deserved every ounce of pain coming to them. 

Blinking a few times, he watched as Thor started towards the large metal doors out of the detention bay. From his place in captivity, he could see his brother's grasped fists and stern jawline—the stress of their encounter taking their physiological tolls. Smiling to himself, he watched as Thor gave him one last, passing glance. 

"I am pleased you were saved, brother." 

Eyes widening, Loki watched as Thor's figure left him alone once more—the beeping of the cameras and machines the only company. Closing his eyes in frustration, Loki clenched his jaw as he felt a heaviness fall over him. There was so much he was angry at—Eir for saving him, for these mortals capturing them…and most of all, for Thor still caring for him despite everything. 

Slamming his hand against the glass, Loki let out a vicious curse. 

He truly wished Thor hated him as much as he hated himself. 

* * *

"Thor, is everything alright?" 

The God of Thunder sent the shorter woman a forced smile, as she waited outside the detention room. In her honey eyes, he could see a worry that pained him. Pulling her close, he was suddenly very thankful that this mortal had found her way into his life. Looking back at her with a reassuring smile, he nodded. 

"Of course, Jane." Thor lied, "Tis emotional when I have words with my brother. He claims to have no hand in this, and I believe him…still, in other matters I fear he is not being truthful. I pray, for his sake, something has changed." 

Before Jane could answer him, Thor watched as the woman he loved pulled out a strange Midgardian device. Waving her fingers against it, he watched as she gave him a strange look as a familiar photo appeared on the screen. 

"It's Darcy." Jane remarked, "Sorry, Thor, this should be quick." 

* * *

A relived look came over Darcy's features as Jane picked up the phone. She knew that her friend didn't like to be bothered when out with Thor, but the college student knew that this was one time the scientist wouldn't mind being bothered. 

"Hey Jane, it's me." Darcy began, an air of nervousness to her voice, "I called to let you know our New Mexico location logged a new event. " 

"Are you sure, Darcy?" Jane's voice asked over the phone, "That equipment has been on the fritz lately. Can you confirm with another observatory and get back to me?" 

Rolling her eyes, Darcy continued. 

"Listen, Jane, I'm positive." The girl asserted, "Absolutely. Hundred percent. Positive. Please get down here." 

"How can you be so sure, Darcy?" Jane's voice asked suspiciously. 

Laughing nervously to herself, Darcy gulped as she looked out of the laboratory window to see the evidence Jane desired. 

"Because," Darcy started, "There are four Asgardians standing outside the lab." 


	15. Visitors

Jane had to admit, in her life there were few times that truly left her _speechless_. Finding out she was had gotten a full ride to Princeton? Yeah, she had been pretty speechless. Seeing some of the first pictures from the Hubble Telescope? She had been at a loss for words then, too. And, of course, there was that time when Thor fell from the sky…and that certainly took the cake. 

So when she had seen the evidence her political science protégé had spoke of, well, add one more speechless moment to her life. Sitting in her lab, surrounded by equipment that cost more than her small flat in New Mexico, were the famous Warriors Three and Lady Sif—all enjoying some of Earth's finer delicacies. 

The whole scene was hilariously out of place. The group of them had on attire that screamed of regality—with the elegantly carved metals and artistically stitched fabric looking rather unusual in her dusty laboratory. In front of them, the aforementioned Earthly delight—a pizza—was all that Darcy could afford with her meager stipend. Laughing to herself quietly, Jane sent the college student a smile. 

"Jane! Finally! You and Thor should come join us." Darcy grinned, "Big guy over here swore he would save you both some." 

Next to her, Thor let out a hearty laugh as Volstagg sent the girl an amused look. Taking her seat next to Darcy, Jane watched as Thor greeted his comrades with a rough pat on the back—and a simple nod towards the female warrior. With her examining eyes, however, Jane could tell that behind the laughter and rejoice, something was amiss. 

"We were actually having a great time, Jane." Darcy admitted, handing the woman a cold slice, "These guys have the most hysterical stories about your boyfriend!" 

"I pray nothing too damaging." Thor mumbled with a mouth filled with food, "Rest assured, Miss Lewis, the Warriors Three have their fair share of asininity." 

Jane watched as the group of them shared a healthy round of laughter before settling down. In Thor's eyes, she could see that he too felt as though something was wrong—that this was not a simple trip to earth. The scientist watched as he put his plate down and gave his friends a small smile. 

"I am overjoyed with your presence, my friends." Thor said with a smile, "But I fear you have not come to Midgard on pleasant terms. I beg of you, tell me I am wrong." 

There was a silence that was unsettling. In the background, the low hum of the machines was the only conversation. It seemed as though the group didn't want to admit to the reality—instead, wishing to remain in their laughter-filled bubble of fiction. Finally breaking the silence, Sif gave a defeated sigh. 

"We had sought safety on Alfheim." She explained, "But Lord Frey urged us to leave. While I know not who, I know well that someone desires the stones. We are being hunted." 

Casting a gaze to her side, Jane could see Thor's fists tightening and jaw becoming tense. Once again, Asgard was going to bring war to earth. With the Warriors Three and Sif accounted for, all of the stones were on Earth. Whoever wanted them, whoever craved them, would have no trouble brining war to the planet again. In her heart, Jane knew that they would make what Loki did in New York look like child's play. 

"I wanted not to put lives in danger here again." Thor whispered, "First my brother, and now this? I feel powerless." 

"Can't you just, I don't know, scatter again?" Darcy suggested, "It would be a short reunion but…" 

"SHIELD has involved themselves too far." Jane interrupted, "I wouldn't be surprised if they were on their way here now. The quicker we can get this situation away from them, the better." 

To this, Thor gave the scientist an agreeing nod. 

"We must entertain another plan of action." Thor agreed, "My comrade, the Man of Iron, is weary of SHIELD as well. Perhaps he could be of assistance? Whatever path we choose, I know-for my brother's safety-he mustn't stay with these people." 

Nodding in agreement, Jane pushed a series of numbers in her phone. Looking past Thor, she could see the familiar black cars and suited men approaching the entrance to her lab. 

Just as she suspected. 

* * *

Loki let out a small hiss as a burst of bright light assaulted his senses. Covering his tired eyes, the God sat up off of the metallic bed and gave his visitor a smile. Clad in his famous leather attire, a singular dissecting eye stared back at him—a look of displeasure radiating from its owner's face. Laughing softly to himself, Loki had thought it would have taken the intimidating Nick Fury a shorter time to confront him again. After all, he could see the questions dripping from him. 

"You have some nerve showing up here again, Loki." 

Flashing a mischievous smile towards the bald man, Loki simply gave him an uncaring shoulder shrug. In the man's eye, Loki could see a rage burning inside him that ignited an excitement that he couldn't describe. He very much liked playing verbal tennis with these mortals, and Nick was one of his favorite competitors. 

"I had nothing to do with this." 

Green eyes narrowed as the agent gave him an incredulous laugh. 

"Right." Nick grinned, "So why were _you_ in possession of the stone? Heimdall swears it was trusted with that woman." 

Loki looked towards his hands with a frustration on his face. Heimdall was here? He knew that Gatekeeper was not very fond of him, and he had to wonder what incriminating information that spineless Asgardian had given these people. From their last encounter, he was certain that Heimdall would feel no qualms offering him up to slaughter. Shaking these thoughts out of his head, Loki returned a playful smirk to the human. 

"The stone was making the Lady sickly." Loki explained, "I thought it best to take the burden of power for a while." 

To Loki's disappointment, the human simply laughed at him again. Letting a growl escape his chapped lips, the God watched as the human shook his head and continued on. 

"That's the biggest bullshit I've ever heard." He decided, "I have a hard time believing that a man who attacked a whole city, would feel bad that some woman was sick. Try again." 

Gritting his teeth, Loki hissed as the pain in his side returned. The wounds from the strange human weapons were still wreaking havoc on his body. Ignoring the pain, Loki shook his head and sent a defiant glance towards the man. 

"Believe what you will, mortal." Loki growled, "Just know that you were foolish for taking the stone. You will suffer in ways you can't even imagine." 

To Loki's satisfaction, a dark look came over Fury's face. 

"What do you mean?" 

Grinning towards the director, Loki could almost taste the fear dripping from the man's voice. Had these people honestly thought they were dealing with something _innocent?_ Had they thought that a group of mere mortals would be able to control something so extraterrestrial? Hadn't they learned from their blunders with the Tesseract that they were no match for these alien objects? Laughing, Loki started to walk over towards the director—a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

"And why should I tell _you_?" Loki smirked, "I take much greater pleasure in watching you mortals play with power you can't hope to control. Soon, it will blow up in your pathetic faces." 

To this, Nick just narrowed his eye. 

"We plan to use them for good." The man explained, "You've caused so much death. Don't you think this is a chance for redemption?" 

Loki tried hard to hold back a laugh, but ultimately failed. 

"Good is a matter of perspective." Loki explained, his voice silky, "You and I are not so different." 

In the middle of this game, green eyes caught sight of moving figures in the window behind his interrogator. Looking past Fury's hard stare, the God could see a number of guards transporting a frail looking figure—the handcuffs digging into their pale flesh with a painful crimson ring. As a pair of unmistakable gold irises met his for a brief moment, the God of Lies could feel an unwanted tightness in his chest. In that brief second, he could see evidence of a torture that disturbed him. 

"Who is she?" 

Blinking a few times, Loki focused back at the human. Putting on a fake malicious smile, Loki simply shook his head and laughed. 

"A pathetic creature, really." Loki explained, "A physician with a unique talent for healing magic. She may have a sharp mind, but she is no different from the rest of Asgard's scum." 

For some reason, a shiver went down Loki's spine as Fury sent him a smile. 

"Now _that_ was a lie." 

Narrowing his green eyes at the man, Loki scoffed. 

"Believe what you want." 

To this, Loki watched as Nick Fury gave him one last grin before heading towards the large silver door that separated his containment room from the hallway to freedom. 

"There are pains not even you are immune to, Loki." Nick muttered, "Soon, you'll talk." 

Matching the human's smirk, Loki sent a challenging glare back. 

"Try me." 

* * *

Brown eyes lowered as they opened the large metal door to a containment cell. In the brightly lit room, handcuffed to a chair, sat a dark haired woman—golden eyes seemingly staring into his very soul. Taking a deep breath, he pulled the chair across from the woman out from the table and took a seat. Looking down at his hands, he gave a small smile to the silent being before him. 

"I've done my research you know." Bruce began quietly, "I know what you are the Goddess of." 

Not surprisingly, the Asgardian remained quiet. Looking her over, he noticed that her eyes looked distant and her long hair was split at the ends. On her arms, the scientist could see the bruised evidence of many needles—of IV's and injections. Under her eyes, he could see a painful exhaustion. In short, the woman sitting before him looked broken. An uneasy feeling came over him as he broke the silence between them. 

"Can you tell me what's wrong with me?" Bruce asked, barely above a whisper, "They say you can perform miracles." 

To this, the scientist watched as the Asgardian let out a small, angry laugh. As her bitten lips twisted into a resentful smile, he felt a fear wash over him. 

"Of course." She muttered, "Your very basis of information has been compromised. Your body is riddled with mutation. But I trust you knew this well." 

Bruce narrowed his eyes as the woman gave his body another look—a bitterness radiating from her thin face. 

"But you came here not to see if I was a fair diagnostician." Eir whispered, "You mortals are not unlike the monsters on Asgard." 

"What?" Bruce asked shocked, "I don't kn—" 

"Since you pathetic creatures found me you have done nothing but treat me as a tool!" the Asgardian spat, "You come in droves, begging for me to cure your slights. You mortals put me through barbaric tests, though hours of painful interrogation. I've been treated as though I was a science project—experimented on! You mortals won't stop until you have every secret from my body and my mind!" 

Looking closer at the woman, he could now see the obvious signs of mental and experimental torture. Seeing the resentment in her golden eyes, a wave of regret came over the man. It seemed that SHIELD had done much more than he thought, and he suddenly felt ashamed for asking. 

"I'm sorry." Bruce whispered, avoiding her gaze, "You just have such a gift I—" 

To this the woman let out a laugh. 

"You have no idea what pain this _gift_ has brought me." 

The scientist took a deep breath as he watched the metallic eyes across from him look towards the floor—lost in a thought. In the silence, he was kept company by the deafening beating of his own heart—beating faster in anticipation to her answer. If anyone could offer him the cure he so desperately sought, it was this woman. Finally breaking the silence, the Asgardian spoke: 

"The pain your body would incur during the healing process would have you _begging_ for death." She muttered, eyes narrowed at him, "I would have to kill every cell in your body. There is a plethora of cells that make up your mortal form, and having them all die…having them all be reborn…is a fate I would wish on no one." 

Brown eyes widened as the woman went into a detailed description of the horrors his body and his mind would face in ridding himself of the monster within him. With each word, Bruce could feel his heart beating faster and his breathing getting tighter. Before she could finish, the man let out a grateful sigh as the metallic door opened behind him with a familiar face. 

"Banner, trying to get a physical?" Tony asked with a smile, "Don't bother, I already asked Fury. Man said we could look—not touch." 

Bruce remained quiet as Tony walked over to the two of them. Watching cautiously, he looked on as Tony tilted his head to the side, gazing at the Asgardian doctor before them. Tony smiled towards the woman, only to have her squint her eyes at the infamous Tony Stark. 

"You're beautiful." Tony decided, "I wish you would smile instead of looking like Death." 

Bruce watched as the woman just sent a dark look towards Iron Man. 

"Well, I tried." Tony decided, "Come on, Banner. Fury has requested our presence for some meeting." 

With that, Bruce sent an apologetic look towards the chained Asgardian before closing the door and leaving her in silence once again. 

* * *

"As you all know, we have a bit of a situation." Nick Fury began, looking around the table filled with Earth—and Asgard's—finest, "Someone is after the stones and their protectors. While we are fairly certain these stones can be used effectively, keeping them here is problematic." 

Nick cast a look over the people seated around the large conference table. In the back, he could see the guilty looks of Thor and his friends as he spoke. Fitting, really, since these aliens had brought so much trouble to Earth…clearing his throat, the director continued on. 

"Not only that." Nick added, "But the only person who knows anything about this person, or how the stones work isn't talking." 

With this, the director flipped open Loki's digital file. In the corner of the screen, the group could see the anxious God pacing in his glass cell like a trapped animal. As he looked on, he could see Thor's visible discomfort over the sight of his brother. 

"We need a plan." The director urged, "We can't be unprepared this time." 

Unfortunately for Fury, this was met by an obvious eye roll from the infamous Black Widow. 

"Sure." She muttered, playing with her red locks, "We'll get right on that. Oh wait, we don't know whose even behind this. We don't know what they're capable of. We don't know _anything_. Unless Loki talks, and I doubt he will, we're stuck." 

Looking at Loki's figure on the screen, Fury let out a defeated sigh. Unfortunately for them, their key to having any chance at defeating whoever— _whatever—_ was after them was firmly grasped in Loki's unforgiving hands. Rubbing his forehead, he sent a look to the God of Thunder. Almost reading his mind, the God shook his head. 

"My brother swears he is innocent." Thor explained, "And what if he is?" 

Before Nick could answer, Barton let out a laugh. 

"I somehow doubt that." 

Narrowing his eyes at the sharp shooter, Nick continued to address the group. 

"Even if he is innocent, Loki needs to be punished for what he did here." He explained, "You don't actually believe I can just _forget_ that he destroyed Manhattan?" 

To his right, Bruce Banner took off his glasses and inspected them for a minute before speaking up. 

"Loki may very well give us the information we need for his freedom." The scientist explained, "Whoever wants these stones will destroy more than just Manhattan. Letting him go could ultimately save millions of lives, especially if he's telling the truth." 

Letting out a sigh, Nick knew Bruce's logic was sound. Still, there was a problem with all of this that unsettled him. Lucky for Fury, Barton seemed to be on the same wavelength. 

"He's the God of _Lies_ , people!" The archer exclaimed, "How can we trust _anything_ he says?" 

Nick could see the guilt sweeping over Thor's face again. 

"What about the chick?" Tony asked flippantly, "Think he'd tell her?" 

Before Nick could respond, Captain America sent Tony a nasty look. 

"Do you really think putting a woman in that kind of position is wise?" Steve asked, "This is _Loki_ we're talking about." 

"My brother would never harm her." Thor defended, unthinking, "Loki's mind is in ruin, but I truly believe my real brother to be under the debris. _That_ brother wouldn't dare hurt her." 

With these words, Nick Fury could feel his lips curling into an uncontrollable smile. 

Perfect. 


	16. Monsters and Men

Gold eyes closed quickly as they saw the woman reflected before them. In the mirror before her, Eir could hardly recognize the figure that stared back at her—a thinning face, exhausted eyes, and chapped lips dominated the reflection. Casting a gaze down to her wrists, her delicate fingers ran themselves over the healing burgundy rings...an unfriendly reminder of the handcuffs that had entrapped her too tightly. 

But what had really hurt hadn't left a scar on her body. Rubbing her forehead, she cringed as she remembered the people they had brought in to dive into her mind. Strange mortals, who had made her remember every horrible moment in her life—mortals who made her remember everything she was trying so hard to forget. 

Swallowing hard, the Goddess cringed as the pain of a throat made raw assaulted her senses. In her ears, she could hear the echo of her screams as they probed her subconscious—gathering every secret about her and everyone who had ever meant anything to her. She could remember the terrifying feeling of losing her perception of time…not knowing how long she had been begging for them to stop whatever magic they were using on her. 

Letting out a sigh, the woman looked at her reflection once again. For all the torture they had put her through, she dreaded to think of the horrors Loki had faced. Unlike her, she doubted that these people would grant him his freedom. For what these mortals were capable of, she was suddenly wondering if death on Asgard would have been more merciful to him. 

Before she could think further, her attention was diverted as the click of the metal door rang through the room. At it, a woman with fiery-red hair gave her a small smile. 

"Time to go." She chimed, "Thor and the others are waiting for you." 

Standing up, Eir was suddenly made aware of the absurdity of the Midgardian clothes that clung to her small form. Delicate laces and golds were replaced with an ill-fitting sweater and jeans…in the mirror, a woman of Asgard was replaced with a prisoner of Earth. Walking over to the Midgardian woman, golden eyes blinked as she was handcuffed once again—the metal of the cuffs reopening dried wounds. 

"Just a formality." The human assured, "SHIELD policy." 

With that, Eir gave a small smile as she took her first steps into the hallway to freedom. 

* * *

Loki stared blankly at the dark ceiling of his cell for what seemed like eternity. Since his last bought with Fury, he had not had the pleasure of another visitor. Instead, his only company was the surrounding cameras and occasional sounds of footsteps from the hallway. In truth, he didn't know what these mortals' play was. Were they trying to force him to think? Were they trying to see if he would crack? If so, they were poorly mistaken. 

Still, in such solitude it was impossible to stop the thoughts from crawling their way into his subconscious. In silence, his mind would reel with poisonous hypothetical situations of "what if"? He could feel his anger rage as he wondered about how life would have been better had he succeeded in his endeavors on Jotunheim—on Midgard. He could feel a guilt wash over him as he thought of how his life could have been better if he hadn't sought the throne, or if he had treated those he loved better. If anything, such solitude only made him more displeased with where his life had taken him. 

Turning his head on the cold bed, green eyes watched as he was once again met with the challenging gaze of Director Fury. Giving the man a small mischievous smile, the God of Lies rose to meet his captor. 

"I feared you had forgotten me." Loki greeted smoothly, "Have you come to seek answers once again? You mortals never learn." 

As Loki looked to the smirking man, a chill came over him as he noticed an unmistakable glint of satisfaction in the man's visible eye. With curiosity, the God watched as the director walked across the room, looking as though he was trying to suppress a laugh. Before Loki could ask, his eyes darted to the door where two figures had entered. Biting down on his teeth firmly, Loki watched as Black Widow sat a handcuffed Eir on the seat in front of his glass cell. 

"I don't think you've been completely truthful with us, Loki." Nick remarked, casting a gaze towards the Asgardian, "It's in your best interest to talk." 

Green eyes looked at the terrified gold staring back at him. Behind her, he could see a bright crimson staining the sleeves of her Midgardian clothes as she tried to pull her hands out of the shackles. To her left, Loki could see a satisfied look come over Fury's face as Eir sent him a desperate look. Breathing slowly, Loki sent a cautious look towards the man. 

"If this is truly between us, there is no need for Lady Eir." Loki said carefully, "I swear, I have told you all I know." 

Loki's eyes shut quickly as a sickening crack rang through the room. Opening them slowly, he could see Eir closing her eyes tightly as blood dripped from her nose—creating a bloodied pattern across her sweater. Looking at the woman before him, he could feel an uncomfortable tightness in his chest as he watched her readjust her jaw with a painful click. Blinking a few times, he looked back to Fury. 

"Now, you were saying?" Nick asked again. 

For once in his life, his deceitful mind had gone blank. 

The Jotun cringed as he watched Black Widow strike Eir again. Loki could feel the tightness in his chest growing as he watched the Asgardian spit out blood, her bottom lip trembling in pain. Tensing his jaw further, Loki could feel his nails unconsciously digging into his palms as his fists tightened. Not willing it to, a growl escaped his lips as Black Widow pulled Eir's long dark hair back roughly. 

"She's pretty." Widow admitted, "It would be a shame if she became unrecognizable." 

"I swear to you, I have no hand in this!" Loki insisted, with more emotion dripping from his voice than he wanted, "Eir has nothing to do with this, I…" 

Before he could finish, Loki could feel his heart stop as he heard an unmistakable metallic click. In front of him, the God looked on helplessly as the Director put a weapon to Eir's head. Loki could taste the saline on his lips as he looked into the terrified eyes of the Asgardian before him. With each passing second, he could hear his heartbeat pounding louder in his head as he watched the tears well up in her unique eyes—a silent prayer etched across her bloodied lips. For the first time since his time on Midgard, he truly felt powerless. 

"Nick, this wasn't part of the plan." Widow said shakily, "This—" 

"Shut up." Nick ordered, pushing the weapon harder into the dark hair, "This is taking too long." 

Letting out a jagged sigh, Loki felt an uncomfortable weight of guilt come over him as he saw the immense sadness in her eyes. His whole body hurt as he was reminded that this was not the first time he had seen such devastation in them. These people were monsters…and so was he. 

Looking between the figures before him, his instincts told him that these people were playing him—that they wouldn't do it. As he watched the Asgardian close her eyes for impact, however, he knew he couldn't live with himself if he took the chance. 

"Thanos." Loki whispered, his voice cracking, "I know he desires the stones, and I know he likes not to work alone. I swear to you…I know not more. _Please_." 

Blinking a few times, Loki felt warm tears fall down his face as Nick clicked the trigger anyway—only for nothing to happen. Looking on in shock, he watched as the man sent him a satisfied smile. Casting his gaze to Black Widow, Loki could see a bitter look of disgust written over her features as she narrowed her eyes between the director and the Asgardian. 

"I told you, we have ways of breaking you." Nick grinned before walking towards the door, "Widow, clean her up and debrief them. I don't _want_ to see their faces again." 

Speechless, Loki watched as the redheaded woman sent him a look that bordered on sympathy, before dragging the broken Asgardian out of the detention wing. Alone once again, Loki closed his eyes tightly and hit his fist hard against his glass cell. Screaming out a string of profanities, he tightened his fists further as a wave of emotion overtook him. Sinking down to the floor, Loki simply put his hand over his eyes and let it out. 

* * *

Sif could feel her heart breaking as she looked out of the small window of Tony's private jet. On the tarmac, she could see a bright smile across Thor's face as he embraced Jane. The two were laughing about something—a happiness about them that pained her. She had purposely willed herself and the Warriors Three to Alfheim to avoid this torture. Being this close to Thor- seeing the happiness this mortal brought him—hurt her in ways no war ever could. 

As she watched the couple walk over and greet the owner of the jet, she got a bitter taste in her mouth. Though hospitable, she dreaded living in Tony Stark's tower for her duration on Midgard. By living in the tower, she would be forced to see scenes like the one before her on a daily basis. She would be forced to pretend she was happy for them. She would be forced to pretend like they were a good couple. She would be forced to remember all the times Thor would fancy every other maiden on Asgard but her. 

"If it means anything, Lady Sif." Heimdall whispered from his seat next to her, "I would rather see you as Queen." 

Blinking a few times, Sif turned to see the Gatekeeper relaxing in his seat with his eyes closed. She knew that, if anyone, Heimdall would be most aware of the pain she was feeling. Though he would never admit to it, she knew well that the All-Seeing knew more of the affairs of Asgardians than most. 

"You must be mistaken." Sif lied, "I know not what you mean." 

To this, Heimdall let out a small laugh. 

"I need not these eyes to see you are not yourself, Sif." He smiled, "I can see the worry on your fair face." 

Sif remained quiet as he spoke. 

"I know the Prince well." Heimdall explained, "This phase will pass. The mortal would make a poor leader." 

The female warrior looked out of the window again. She could see that the group of them was now talking to a man in a long trench coat with an eye-patch. The mortal that Thor now had an arm around had a serious face on as she listened to what the man had to say. Jane may have been smart, but she knew nothing of Asgard or its people. Love, she knew, only went so far when it came to royalty. 

"We both know that means little." Sif muttered, "I'm sorry Heimdall, I'm being weak." 

To this, Sif watched as a pair of warm eyes met hers and put a hand on her shoulder. 

"You are the strongest lady I know, Sif." He smiled, "Do not let these worries consume you. All will be well in the end." 

Nodding slightly, Sif took one last look out towards the others. In the distance, she could see another dark vehicle coming into sight. At this, she could see Thor tighten his grip on Jane, a small look of worry across his bearded face. Closing the blind to her window, Sif closed her eyes and hoped that Heimdall somehow saw something she didn't. 

She hoped that he was right. 

* * *

"Believe me, Patches, everything will be fine." Stark assured, "Jarvis is ready to monitor any threats. Loki won't be able to _breathe_ wrong without me knowing." 

Tony watched as Fury gave him a satisfied nod. After Jane had called him with her concerns, he had done everything in his power to convince the Director to relocate the Asgardians to his place. With the stones under his possession, him and Bruce could work to learn of their secrets without SHIELD trying to weaponize them. With the Tesseract project, Stark knew all too well that SHIELD had ulterior motives behind their good intentions. No doubt, they would do the same with these gems. 

"I'm surprised he talked, to be honest." Tony mused, "Not exactly in his character." 

"We were very persuasive." Fury explained, "Freedom is a tempting prize." 

In the corner of his eye, Stark could see Natasha averting her eyes from his. From behind Fury, he could see Bruce and Kate approaching with a thick steel case. From what he suspected, the stones that were to be studied found their temporary home in that case. 

"I've outfitted the tower with everything we need." Stark explained, "I've also set up your toys upstairs, Janey. We will have some great data to send back to you, Fury." 

Seemingly pleased with the necessary preparations, Stark watched as Nick Fury gave them a small nod before leaving. There was an awkward silence amongst the group of Avengers, an unspoken nervousness about them that was unsettling. 

"My brother approaches." Thor whispered, "I can feel it." 

Tony noticed that Thor pulled Jane in closer to him and watched an approaching black car in the distance. The genius would be lying if he said he wasn't apprehensive about agreeing to house the villain in his tower. Loki had already tried to kill them all before, and having him close enough to try again was frightening. Stark could only hope that—perhaps beyond all odds—Loki would be able to help them keep Earth safe. 

Somehow, though, he doubted it. 

* * *

Looking out the window, Loki could see small figures coming into view. Amongst them, he could see the outline of his brother and the mortal woman. The prince could feel himself unconsciously gripping the fabric on his coat as the others came into view—Fury and Stark included. 

Closing his eyes, he tried to keep the anger at bay. SHIELD had granted him freedom on the condition that he cooperate with the Avengers on everything they needed. While the God of Mischief wanted nothing more than to see his brother and these mortals fall to the power they hopelessly wanted to control, he was powerless to object. SHIELD made it _very_ clear the consequences that would await him if he were uncooperative. It was as if he was still a prisoner, under the guise of a free man. 

"Loki…about earlier." 

Breaking his thoughts, green eyes moved ever so slightly towards the passenger next to him. He could see the woman averting her gaze from him—her eyes seemingly intrigued by her own hands as she spoke. 

"What happened back there—" 

"I don't want to speak of it." 

In the corner of his eyes, Loki could see confusion wash over the woman's face as he interrupted her. He watched as she blinked a few times before averting her bruised face away from him. As she looked out the window, he noticed that she bit her broken bottom lip anxiously—wanting very much to talk. Despite his requests, she did. 

"I know well you hate me." She whispered, "So…thank you. Thank you for sparing me." 

Loki noticed that she was still looking away from him as she spoke—perhaps not wanting to see the angry look that now adorned his face. Letting out a frustrated sigh, the man turned away from the woman and continued to watch as his brother's figure came into better view. In the silence, the Jotun could feel the heavy guilt from her words. While he remembered the words passing his lips fluidly, this hate she spoke of had little substance. 

He hated many things—and she represented many of them. Even now, part of him wished that he had allowed Fury to take her life. In ridding her from this world, he could have spared himself the torturous hate she brought out of him. Eir represented everything he hated about himself—and with every look she gave him, he was reminded of the good man he had been and the start of the monster he was now. 

But he hadn't let her die, despite every fiber of his being begging him to—and it terrified him. 

Shaking the thoughts, Loki could feel his heart race as the vehicle came to its stop in front of Thor. Locking eyes, green irises were met with the disappointment-laden blue of his brother's. Taking a deep breath, the prince put a nervous hand to the door handle. Sending a small glance towards the Goddess next to him, Loki closed his eyes… 

And took his first steps to freedom. 


	17. A Start

Malekith could smell death in the air as he walked down the abandoned halls of Asgard's palace. For as far as his eyes could see, there was not a soul—only the dark stains of blood lay as evidence that these halls were once occupied. Goblets once filled with mead and wine littered the golden floors unused. Rotting food served as evidence of a festival gone wrong. 

Opening the large door to the throne room, Malekith hissed as he stepped on a motionless Asgardian. Looking around the room, the Dark Elf could see the struggles of a people outmatched. All around him lay broken glass, shattered jewelry and spilled blood. If Thanos could do this to a whole group of people, he didn't want to think of what he could do to him if he failed. 

Stepping carefully towards the throne, Malekith sent a smile towards the Titan who sat on Odin's seat. In the sparkling chair, Malekith could see a sick smile over Thanos's face. The Titan seemed pleased with the carnage around him—always trying to please Death. In his hand, Thanos swirled a goblet of mead and welcomed the Elf. 

"I pray you have news for me." 

"Yes, Lord Thanos." Malekith smiled, "I have traveled throughout the realms, as you wished. No Asgardians were found…I fear we must take this hunt to Midgard." 

The Dark Elf could see the obvious disappointment on Thanos's features. Between the two of them, they had allies on every realm besides Midgard. Having to infiltrate the human world would be risky—especially after the monumental failure Loki encountered. The humans were an unpredictable people, and obviously more powerful than they had previously thought. 

"I would suggest we approach this cautiously, my Lord." Malekith added, "If we are too hasty, we may face the same fate as Loki and lose the stones. Infiltrating their group allows for the highest chance of success." 

Malekith watched as Thanos thought seriously for a moment before nodding. 

"Do what must be done." The Titan decided, "But leave Loki for me." 

Bowing, Malekith sent the man a wicked smile before disappearing in a mist once again. It would not be hard to find the Asgardians once he reached Midgard and once he found the perfect pawn the whole thing would be like child's play. By attacking from within, they wouldn't have time to rally their forces. They wouldn't have time to retaliate because once they noticed the stones were gone… 

It would be too late. 

* * *

Pepper hummed quietly to herself as she set up a pair of wine glasses on the small table her and Tony shared. In the background, she could hear the faint lullaby of beautiful music she had playing on the radio, and she could smell the sweet nectar which was dinner cooking. It had been ages since she had seen her boyfriend—the infamous Iron Man—and when he had messaged her saying he was coming home early with a surprise, well, she decided to give him a little surprise of her _own._

Pepper would be the first to admit that romance wasn't exactly her forte. She was always forced to be so professional as Tony's secretary, and now that their relationship had moved far from professional in nature, she had a hard time adjusting. Tony had told her to loosen up—to let her hair down—and she had been giving it her best go. She truly hoped he enjoyed tonight. 

Interrupting her thoughts, a bright smile beamed across her face as she heard the unmistakable sound of the elevator beeping. Lighting some candles quickly, she took her place in front of the elevator and waited eagerly. With the final beep, Pepper's eyes brightened as she saw the stupid smug smile of Tony Stark… 

And her heart sunk when she realized he wasn't alone. 

"Hey, Pep!" Tony grinned, "Look who followed me here!" 

Clicking off the music, Pepper gave Tony a forced smile. Behind him, Thor and Jane waved at her awkwardly—something unspoken on their faces. With another beep of the elevator, hazel eyes widened as more people entered the room with clothing that looked out of this world. Glaring at her boyfriend, Pepper pulled Tony aside. 

"Hey, be careful!" Tony warned straightening his suit, "It's _Versace."_

Pepper growled as another elevator-full entered the room. 

"I'm going to pour bleach on your precious Versace if you don't start talking." Pepper hissed, "This is your idea of a _surprise?!_ Who are these people?!" 

Pepper could feel the rage growing as she watched a particularly large man walk over to the dinner she had set out and started eating it. Another—this one with golden locks and looking suspiciously like Robin Hood—had already started to drink the champagne. Gritting her teeth, she was met only with Tony's famous cheeky grin. 

"It's only temporary, Pep." Tony assured, "There's a bit of a situation on Asgard and Thor needs our help." 

Letting out a sigh, hazel eyes looked deep into the caring brown of the man she loved. 

"Why didn't you tell me, Tony?" she wondered, "There is so much to prepare now, and guest rooms to set up, and food and…" 

"It's all taken care of." Tony interrupted, "I didn't want you to worry. Doing everything for me isn't your job anymore. Enjoy the moment, ok?" 

Before she could argue, Tony placed a kiss on her lips and walked over towards the group of homeless Asgardians. For the most part, they looked harmless enough. Some of them were still clad in outfits that looked ready for war, while others were dressed in normal clothes. They had unimpressive features, well, aside from two of them having the prettiest eyes she had ever seen…and all of them being beautiful. Still, Pepper hoped that after a little adjusting they would cause her no trouble. 

"Welcome to Stark Tower, guys." Tony smiled, "A few of you have been here before—some on particularly _nasty_ terms—but for the rest of you, a couple ground rules." 

Pepper noted that the Asgardians looked on towards Tony eagerly. 

"Hands off the liquor." Tony started, "I know how you Asgardians drink and I'm not made of money." 

Tony smiled to himself. 

"Well, maybe I am." He corrected, "But I would rather you not touch the nice stuff." 

There was obvious disappointment amongst the group. 

"Also, no breaking things." Tony added, "That means stay away from the _windows_ , Antlers." 

At this, Pepper could see one of them look away and scowl. 

"Besides that, mi casa es su casa…or whatever they say." Stark beamed, "So relax! I'll order in some Chinese. It'll be great." 

Pepper let out a defeated sigh as Tony turned around and flashed her a grin. Behind his enthusiasm, she could tell that he was nervous about something—and she didn't think it had to do with their guests. If there was something wrong on Asgard, the woman knew that it would likely come to Earth. After what happened only a few months ago…after Tony almost died…she was terrified. 

"See, Pep." Tony assured pulling her close, "Everything will be ok." 

Pepper's heart sunk. 

He was lying. 

* * *

Opening his eyes quickly, Loki cursed as he was met with the darkness of one of Stark's guest rooms. Breathing deeply, Loki sat up and put a hand to his sweating forehead. Though the room was quiet, he could still hear the broken cries echoing from a horrible nightmare. It was not often that he dreamt, but when he did he was always met with horrible flashes of a time gone by. 

In the quiet of slumber, he was reminded of the tortures he faced as he fell from Asgard. He was reminded of the lies and tricks he played to gain Thanos's praise—to gain his trust. And in the wake of these memories, Loki was left only with the harsh reality of the present. He was left feeling unfulfilled and confused…wondering if it was all worth it. 

Breaking the silence of his thoughts, however, the Prince jumped as a voice shattered his reserve. 

"Good evening, Mr. Odinson." A mechanical voice chimed, "Is there anything I can do to make your stay more comfortable?" 

Letting out a sigh of relief, Loki realized that his visitor was none other than Stark's computerized servant. A hiss escaped the Prince's lips at his rapidly growing headache, he stood up from his warm bed—the cold floors a harsh contrast on his feet. 

Shuffling across the dark room, Loki opened the door quietly and made his escape. Walking down the silver steps of Stark Tower and walking out near the balcony, he was suddenly reminded of his last time there. He could still hear the screams of the Midgardians in the city below, and could still taste the excitement of a war almost won. On his hands, he could still recall the feeling of Stark's quickening pulse as he threw him out the window—and he could still see the devastation in his brother's face at what he had done. 

Looking out at the city below, Loki still didn't know if it had been worth it. The throne still eluded him, he still didn't have his father's approval or love, and in the wake of everything he was left with a palpable regret. His lust for the throne had hurt those closest to him-casualties to his selfish needs. In the waking hours he managed to keep the guilt away, but in the dark—when his thoughts were his lone companions—it was unbearable. 

"Couldn't sleep?" 

Turning his head around with a snap, Loki narrowed his eyes at Tony Stark. The man was cleaning one of his many glasses, and casting a glance affectionately over his large assortment of alcohol. From the looks of it, the man had been awake for hours—the pattern of sleeplessness hard to miss. Standing up to leave, Loki was taken aback as the man poured him a glass. 

"Here" Tony insisted pushing it towards him, "I never did get you that drink." 

Casting a cautious glance over the beverage, Loki simply narrowed his eyes at the man further. To his frustration, Stark simply shrugged his shoulders and took it back. 

"No loss. More for me." He decided, "But this _is_ 50 year old scotch." 

The god could feel his jaw clenching as the mortal spoke further. 

"Oh well, I tried." Tony sighed, "So what's going on?" 

What was going on? Loki laughed at the absurdity at Tony's question. What was going on was that he was going to be killed at the hands of Thanos. What was going _on_ was that everything he had ever done had been a complete _failure_. What was going _on_ was that he hated where his pathetic life had ended up. He hated that he felt like a prisoner in his own flesh. He hated that he failed everyone that ever meant anything to him. He wanted to scream because he was so disjointed…because he didn't know who he was or what he wanted anymore. 

"I've been there, you know." Tony started, almost reading his mind, "I've been the bad guy." 

Letting out a growl, Loki turned himself away from the mortal and stood before the window once more. The last thing he wanted was for this pathetic creature to give him a _therapy session_. He had seen things that this mortal could only dream about. He had lived a thousand mortal lifetimes-been to every corner of the universe—and this human actually thought he could be relatable. It was a laughable sentiment, really. He was certain this Tony Stark would tell him nothing of substance. 

"I've killed more people than you, actually." Tony continued, "I was in the weapons business. Lucrative—of course. I didn't care who I stepped on to get what I wanted. We were not so different." 

At this, Loki wanted to laugh again. He was certain that Stark's need was childish—greedy. The simple wants of a mortal were nothing compared to his. The death of thousands of humans was incomparable to what he had given up to get the throne—it didn't come close. If Stark truly knew the pain he had caused himself to become king of Asgard, well, he wouldn't _dare_ try to compare them. 

"In case you cannot tell, I care not for what you have to say." Loki said bitterly, "Will you stop this torture if I humor you? I can see you only want attention." 

To Loki's disappointment, the man simply returned a challenging smile. In his mind, the god was seriously weighing the consequences of throwing the man and his smug look out of the window again. 

"Maybe." Tony agreed, taking a drink, "Maybe not. Attention seeking? Now, that's something we _definitely_ share." 

Loki cursed under his breath as Tony kept talking. The man continued to ramble on about how his company gained him unimaginable wealth and hoards of women. He continued to speak of the festivals he would go to, and the fantastic parties he would throw. If this mortal was trying to make a case against evil, well, Loki was sure he was failing. Just as he was about to tune the man out further, something caught the god's attention. 

"But despite everything I wasn't happy." Tony admitted, "I can see you're not, either." 

Closing his eyes, Loki let out a frustrated sigh. 

"I'd fix it now, before it's too late." 

Without thinking, Loki spoke. 

"It already is!" He spat, "I'm never going to be some _hero_! I'm never going to be like _Thor!"_

Loki could feel his nails digging into his palms again as his fists clenched. Across the room, he could see the shock in the man's eyes as he took another large drink of liquor. The god wanted to scream at the man and tell him that he didn't know what a miserable life was. He wanted to scream and tell him that he didn't know what it truly meant to hate your life—to hate _yourself_. 

"I've done unforgivable things." Loki explained bitterly, "One cannot just _take back_ what was said or done. One cannot just say ' _sorry_ '. Sorry is an empty word." 

To Loki's surprise, Tony just shook his head and smiled as he punched in the number on the elevator to leave. 

"Yes, but it's a start." 

With that, Loki was alone again. Hissing out profanity, Loki angrily threw a pillow across the room. Did the mortal truly think that saying sorry to the people he had hurt was really going to change anything? The man had no idea the extent of the monster he was. He had no idea the amount of pain his want for the throne had caused… 

Casting his green eyes over towards the bar, Loki noticed a lone glass of alcohol sitting untouched. Gritting his teeth, the god walked over and downed it in one take—savoring the burn as it went down. 

No. 

Sorry was never going to suffice. 

  



	18. Seeds of Doubt

Loki let out a frustrated sigh as he looked at his shaking hand above a silver door handle. The prince had been in countless battles, he had been so close to Death he could feel her icy breath, but as he stood in front of the unimpressive door he felt terrified. For someone so talented with words, he was shocked at the difficulty he was having articulating the fear he was feeling. He couldn't fathom why he was scared of a _door handle_. 

Touching his hands to its cool surface he stopped—not sure if he could bring himself to heed Stark's advice. On the surface, the prospect of apologizing made his blood boil. It was not in his nature to be a good person, and the idea of admitting that he did something wrong made him sick. Still, behind the villainous mask he now wore there was another part of him that desperately wanted forgiveness. 

And deep down Loki knew he was scared of being denied that absolve. He had been denied so much in his life already—the throne, the truth of his birth, Midgard—he knew he couldn't take another blow. 

Casting his eyes down towards his shaking hand, he wanted to let out a scream. He didn't even know what he would say; he had been the God of Lies so long he didn't know what was real. When his mind would race with the memories of what brought him here, he tried to lie himself out of it—he tried so hard to erase the truth. He didn't want to believe he had so willingly become the monster he was now. 

But after long moments passed, Loki pulled his hand away from the chilled metal. Though he wanted forgiveness, he didn't know what he would do with it. He didn't truly feel sorry for his actions on Midgard-on Jotunheim. Whatever sickness plagued his mind was far from cured, and expecting to be forgiven when he was still a monster yet was laughable. Expecting to be forgiven for decidedly unforgivable actions was a joke. 

He couldn't risk it. 

* * *

Gold eyes looked cautiously around the empty hallway before them. On either side of her door, Eir could not see a soul—and it sent a shiver down her spine. While she was not blessed with the talents of Heimdall, she could have sworn she had heard someone only moments ago. Instead, the only company that came to greet her was an uncomfortable chill in the air. 

Closing the door behind her, the Goddess of Medicine started to trek down the halls of Stark Tower. Surrounded by the sounds of her clicking shoes, she cast her eyes to the many pictures that adorn the mortal's walls. She could see pictures of their host with people that looked very important, and she could see him smiling with a woman she had only briefly met. There were pictures of him with Thor, and pictures of him working on complex technology the likes of which eluded Asgard. 

Seeing the strange glass walls of a workshop, the Goddess walked over and cast her eyes over the amazing things inside of it. There were lights and a number of suits that lit up and looked ready for war. In the middle of all this, though, was a pair of brown eyes looking straight at her. 

"Hey you!" he yelled, "Let me see your hands!" 

Giving the man a confused look, the Goddess held up her petite hands so he could see. On her nails, she could still see the chipping polish from a festival long past—one of her last remnants of Asgard. But before she could think further, the man hurriedly beckoned her into the lab. With a rush of entering air, the glass door to the workshop opened itself for the woman. 

"You're the doctor, right?" the man asked, "I need a little assistance, and I'd rather not have to call Pepper." 

Nodding slightly, Eir listened carefully as the man explained the procedure. It seemed simple enough—she just had to reconnect the new piece of technology in his chest. Though she was not well read on technology, she was confident that if the man went into cardiac arrest like he warned, she would be able to save him regardless. 

"You've got that, Goldie?" the man asked, "Here's the new reactor." 

As soon as the new piece of technology was placed in her hands, the man ripped out the old one. In the corner of the room, rapid beeping on a heart monitor said that the metallic pieces had already stated to advance. With a deep breath, Eir placed her hand inside the mortal and felt around for the connection point. 

"You know, I don't think we were properly introduced. Now that you're inside me-" he laughed to himself, "Funny, that's usually the other way around." 

Ignoring him, Eir smiled as her fingers found the port and connected the electronics with an audible click. With the new reactor in place, the doctor could hear the beeps in the background resume a normal physiological speed and cadence. Looking back towards the patient, she noticed that he was holding a hand out to her. 

"Tony Stark. Iron Man." 

Shaking his hand, the Asgardian smiled. 

"Eir, of Asgard." 

The woman watched as the human detached the various electronics from his chest and sat up from his seat. 

"Thor said you're a handmaiden to the Queen." Tony remarked looking at various screens, "That must have been glamorous." 

To this Eir wanted to laugh. Glamorous? Not quite. Asgard's most important people always surrounded her, and the Queen made sure she was dressed well. Still, her line of work put her in the vilest of situations. Wading through death-laden fields, and trying to save the lives of helpless Asgardians was decidedly _not_ glamorous. 

"At times." She admitted, "Though 'handmaiden' is often overly romanticized. Most times, life was not so luxurious." 

The woman watched as Tony cringed. 

"Aren't any of you happy?" he asked, "For a bunch of Gods you're all miserable people. I'm going to need therapy after listening to you guys." 

Letting out a sigh, the woman knew he was right. Asgard on the outside was a beautiful place filled with beautiful people. For most of the population, it was just that—the landscapes rolling and the sky an endless canvas. There was a time for her, too, that Asgard was filled with nothing but wonder. There had been a time when she was happy—a time when even the horrors of war and the smell of death could not steal her euphoria. But no one close to the royal family ever made it out unscathed. Politics on Asgard were volatile and left their ugly scars. 

She was no exception. 

"I can cure you." She started, wishing to change the subject, "I know not why you had failed to seek me sooner." 

Golden eyes watched as Tony looked down towards the ring of light on his chest and gave her a smile. It would be an easy fix—unlike his other mortal friend. In a matter of moments, she was confident that he would live unburdened by his faulty heart. 

"Thanks, but no thanks." 

Blinking a few times, she was taken aback. 

"What?" 

Eir could see the ghost of a laugh on the man's face as he looked to her obvious confusion. 

"This is a part of me now." He explained, pointing to the reactor, "To get rid of this would be to change who I am. I don't need fixing." 

This time, Eir couldn't help herself from letting out a bitter laugh. 

"I applaud you, sir." She whispered, "I know quite a few who would give anything to be cured of their burdens." 

Tony raised an eyebrow. 

"You speak from experience." 

Eyes widening, the Goddess looked at the man who was cleaning one of his many technological pieces. He looked occupied, almost half listening to what she had been telling him. Noticing the deafening silence, Tony turned to her. 

"That tone." He explained, "It gives you away." 

Narrowing her eyes at him, Eir simply shook her head. 

"You are mistaken." She insisted, "It is absurd of you to think you know me." 

To this, Tony Stark simply shrugged and went back to working on his machine. 

"So be it, Princess." He smirked, "Thanks for helping me, again." 

Feeling her teeth unconsciously clenching, Eir glared at the mortal before her. Taking her cue to leave, the Goddess walked out into the halls and continued on her trek to the dining room. Echoing through the empty halls, she could hear the sick clicking of angry shoes-mad that the mortal had been so forward. Mad because he acted as though he knew her. 

Mad because he was right. 

* * *

Heimdall let out a sigh as he looked out from the top of the mortal's tower. For reasons none of them could explain, they all felt weaker on Midgard. Thor could not summon lightening without great effort, Eir could not heal as quickly, and him—well, his eyesight was suffering greatly. From his vantage point atop Stark Tower, in the lab Lady Jane occasionally occupied, he could only see the faintest traces of Asgard. But what he did see disturbed him in many ways. 

From what he could tell, there were no survivors. Though his vision was cloudy, he could clearly see Asgard's streams running red with the aftermath of a battle long lost. The palace was filled with a sick silence, and there was food left from a festival never had. He could not see his King—nor could he see his Queen. Asgard, from what he could tell, was in ruin. 

Closing his eyes, Heimdall stood in thought for a moment. Whoever wanted these stones would stop at nothing to get them. Though Odin had spared their lives, he knew well that war was likely to follow them to Midgard. What they were living on now was borrowed time—and fate was never kind with extensions. In the end, the warrior knew they would have to face their fates eventually…and it scared him. 

"Oh, I'm sorry!" 

Snapping out of his thoughts, the man turned to see the embarrassed look on Jane's face. In her hands he could see a number of star charts, mathematical equations, and pictures. Sending her a warm smile, the Gatekeeper simply turned back to look out at the expanse that was New York City. 

"Tis quite alright, Milady." He reassured, "This is your observatory, is it not? It is I who intrudes." 

From behind him, Heimdall could hear the woman place the pieces of paper on a nearby desk and take a number of cautious footsteps up to him. 

"What do you see?" 

Blinking a few times, Heimdall looked to see Jane's brown eyes looking off into the distance—seemingly trying to see what he saw. Thor's lady was a curious one, certainly, and she had a fair mind. Smiling at the would be queen, Heimdall looked back towards the cloudy, winter sky above, 

"Asgard, of course." He admitted, "Though I fear I cannot see much. What is not clouded is dire." 

At his side, he could see a look of sympathy on the woman's face. 

"I'm sorry." She whispered, "I know what it is like to lose the people you love." 

Avoiding her gaze, Heimdall looked back to the city below. Though he could see the devastation on Asgard, he hadn't stopped to think of all the people he would never see again. He hadn't thought of never sharing war stories with Tyr, or see Gefjon's beautiful smile again. He hadn't thought of never again laughing and feasting at the many festivals Asgard had. But despite all of this, he sent Jane a small smile. 

"Worry not for me, Lady Jane." Heimdall assured, "My greatest of friends were sparred the horrors. I could not have chosen a finer group of Asgardians for this task." 

Heimdall could see the mortal scrunch her face in disgust. 

"Even Loki?" 

Golden eyes twitched slightly at the mention of the other prince of Asgard. When Lady Eir had told him that she had a way off Asgard he hadn't even considered that she would use Loki's vast knowledge to do it—though he should have known. While he wasn't fond of Loki, he knew that if he had perished on Asgard Thor would have blamed himself. In a sense, then, the Gatekeeper was happy the jotun had lived. 

"Yes," Heimdall decided, "Even Loki." 

To this, Jane let out a frustrated sigh. 

"Well I don't trust him." She muttered, "If he tries to kill Thor I—" 

"I don't think he will, Lady Jane." He interrupted, "I am not fond of Loki either, but I can see well something is plaguing the prince." 

Heimdall noticed that the mortal continued to listen to him. 

"In prison, I believe he was forced to think." Heimdall explained further, "The guilt on his face is obvious." 

This time, Jane let out a bitter laugh before casting her eyes towards the city once more. 

"That doesn't make him a good person." Jane argued, "We can't just trust him because he feels _sorry._ " 

Golden eyes closed in thought for a moment as the mortal's words met his ears. She was certainly right, of course—he wasn't a good person. But compared to the Loki that froze him and tried to kill him, well, this Loki was an improvement. 

"No." He agreed, "But it means he is on the right path." 

Next to him, the mortal rolled her eyes. 

"You should have left him on Asgard." She countered, "No one would mourn his loss." 

The man could feel the side of his lips curl into a small laugh as she spoke. Thor's lady had no idea how wrong she was. When he was in the healing chambers the night Loki was thought to be lost, he recalled much mourning. He could remember Thor's tearful eyes and the broken screams of those closest to the prince. Though he himself failed to shed a tear that night, he saw many of them. 

"To lose Loki would be to hurt Thor in the worst way, Milady" 

"I don't care." She shivered, "He's killed so many people, I don't feel safe with him here!" 

This time, Heimdall couldn't hold back a laugh. 

"Forgive me," He started, "But you know so little of Asgard." 

He proceeded with caution when the mortal sent him a warning glance. 

"Asgard is a culture that thirsts for war." He explained carefully, "We have _all_ done things we regret in the name of Asgard. Myself—and Thor—are not exempt. Our hands run red as well." 

With this, golden eyes watched as a shocked look washed over the mortal's features. Asgard and Midgard were very different, and if Lady Jane was to truly become queen she was going to face a difficult transition. Heimdall knew well the trials women attached to the princes faced—and they were difficult for _Asgardians_ to bear. For Jane to take the throne would be painful to watch. 

"You're lying." She whispered, avoiding his eyes, "Thor would never." 

The man couldn't help but give her a sympathetic look. 

"Thor is one of my greatest comrades, Milady. I have—" 

"Well I _love_ him." 

Heimdall avoided the mortal's glaring eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. He never liked to get involved with love affairs, but he was smart enough to know love when he saw it. During his time as gatekeeper, he had been witness to a number of illicit affairs—and the great sacrifices that often came with them. Whatever Thor and Jane had was not love in the slightest. 

"I have known him for centuries." Heimdall muttered, "You have known him for months. Can you be so sure?" 

Before the woman could argue with him, their attention was drawn to a click of a door. Standing at the door with a large grin was the man himself—his blond hair tied back and wearing mortal clothes. Giving a nod of acknowledgment to the prince, Heimdall's eyes watched as the man walked over and kissed the mortal. 

"I am pleased I found you here." Thor grinned, "Stark wishes to take a band of us to see the city. I hoped you would accompany me, Jane. You are welcome too, good Heimdall." 

Shaking his head to the prince, Heimdall waved as the couple excused themselves from the observatory. Unmissed by his eyes, however, the gatekeeper could see that behind the woman's smile was an uncertainty. Smiling to himself, he returned to his post in front of the great window. Though he didn't want to be cold to the mortal, he knew it was in her best interest to know who Thor was—who _all_ of them were. 

For they were almost as guilty as the monster she spoke of. 

* * *

Taking a deep breath, Bruce looked over the number again. All of the stones had similar physical properties and were emitting similar levels of radiation, but no amount of science could explain the vast differences in capabilities that the stones possessed. He had already studied one that enhanced power, one that defied the laws of physics, and another that was capable of long distance travel. But the one he was working on now was very different. 

The instant he touched it he knew something was wrong. Behind the beautiful orange glow was something bizarre—and with the brushing of his finges against its facets, he saw the entirety of his life flash before his eyes. He was forced to relive both the most wonderful and the painfully terrible scenes from a time long past…just because of some stone. In a touch, he was almost lost in a prison of the past. If Kate hadn't come to the lab early… 

"You ok, Banner?" Tony asked outside of his door, "You look like you've seen a ghost." 

Looking up from his papers, the scientist noticed that Stark was returning with a number of bags. He had heard something about him taking the Asgardians into the city and after the unwanted troubles from the day he wished he had gone. 

"I'm fine." He decided, "Kate and I experienced some adverse side effects from one of the stones today. I'm just a little shaken up." 

Tony sent him a worried look. 

"I don't want you destroying the tower, Banner." Tony joked, "Maybe you should take a break." 

Giving the man a reassuring smile, Bruce just shook his head. 

"I promise your tower will be safe." He laughed, "Kate swore she locked the stone in lead before she left. Everything will be fine." 

Nodding in satisfaction, Banner watched as Tony wished him a good night and continued down the hallway. Taking one last glance over the numbers for the day, the man decided to wash his hands of the day. After everything that he had been forced to live through, he was happy to leave this day behind him. Shutting down the last of the computers, the man turned off the lights to the lab and locked the door—bathing the room in a darkness… 

Made company only by an unattended faint orange glow. 


	19. A Time Gone By

Wrapping a jacket around her frail body, Kate shivered in the chill of the New York night. All around her, she could see the glitter of holiday decorations being turned off for the night. It was late—later than the woman liked being out of her apartment—but when she had returned home she had realized her mistake. 

Though Bruce had told her a number of times, she had still managed to forget to lock the small gem in lead. All day the pretty stone had been causing them trouble—and she didn't want to have the other inhabitants of Stark Tower suffer the same fate. 

Picking up her pace, her brown eyes looked around at the lonely streets around her. She could still hear the commotion of the city, with sirens and people yelling in the background, but everything around her still felt uncomfortably still. In the distance she could see the bright flickering of Stark's name, and was grateful that her journey was nearly over. 

But as she continued on, she noticed that the streets had become quieter. Now, not even the sounds of the city permeated the stillness of her surroundings. Breathing deeply, Kate could see the heat of her breath leave her shivering lips. All around her was an eerie fog…particularly atypical weather for December in New York. 

And then she saw black. 

* * *

_Thor let out a small squeak of pain as a horrible burning sensation ran through his leg. To his left, he could see the concerned green eyes of his brother as he helped him walk down the sparkling rainbow bridge. With each step, Thor could feel the pain in his leg getting more intense, now unable to put any pressure on the bum appendage._

_"This is all your fault." Thor hissed, holding onto his brother tighter, "We should have never gone to the Dwarves."_

_Casting his sights to Loki again, Thor could feel his teeth clenching as The God of Mischief flashed him a playful smile._

_"Brother, if you hadn't mistaken that dwarf man for a woman…" he explained with a laugh, "We could have avoided this whole mess."_

_Groaning, Thor could see the palace far in the distance and wondered if it would be easier to punch the stupid grin off of Loki's face and crawl back. It was Loki who had gotten them in this situation, anyway. It seemed that whenever he went on a quest with his brother, it was he who ended up getting hurt. His brother always ended up unscathed and with a tale to tell. Loki's skill with words always spared him injury._

_"No, we should have never sought the dwarves to craft mother a present." Thor spat, "Flowers for her birthday would have sufficed."_

_Clenching his teeth tighter, Thor let out a painful gasp as Loki tried to stop him from falling over._

_"My apologies, Thor." Loki sighed, "I fear that mother will be most displeased with this. What is it, the second time you've broken something this month?"_

_Letting out another groan, Thor realized his brother was right; the prospect of having to sit in the healing room with his mother scolding him was an unpleasant thought. When they returned, there would be another painful three days of healing and magic. He hated keeping still, and the idea of missing his mother's feast because of this only angered him further._

_"Funny enough," Thor began sternly, "I broke bones both times on misadventures with you."_

_Loki just laughed at this._

_"Don't get too serious now, Thor." He warned, "You will miss these days when we are married with wives and boring."_

_Thor just narrowed his eyes at his brother's mischievous green._

_"I wonder if Lady Sif will visit you in the healing chambers?"_

_Feeling the heat rise in his face, Thor weighed the pros and cons of crawling back to the palace again. All around him, he could hear his brother's insolent teasing and laughter. He had thought that Loki was too old to be acting like a child, but he was wrong. Never before had the fantasy of punching him in the face been so tempting. In the end, however, he knew Lady Eir would scream at them for coming home with a broken leg and nose._

_"I hate you." Thor decided, "If I wasn't currently incapacitated…"_

_"Oh_ please _." Loki smiled, interrupting him, "You would be lost without me, brother."_

Opening his blue eyes quickly, Thor could feel an unbearable sadness wash over him. All around him, the sparking Bifrost had been replaced with the bed he now slept on. The colorful skies of Asgard were replaced with the white of one of Stark's guest rooms. Though he thought it was a dream, he could still feel a faint throbbing pain in his leg—he could still hear Loki's laughter. There had been something uncomfortably _real_ about everything. 

It was unsettling. 

But what he was left with—far more troublesome than pain in his leg-was a reminder of the brother he used to have. The smiles and the jokes of old were replaced with bitter scowls and screams. The adventures they used to share were replaced with wars they now fought against each other. In the wake of the memory, Thor was left feeling as though he lost his best friend. 

And he desperately wanted him back. 

"Is everything ok?" 

Turning towards the stirring Jane, Thor let out a sigh. He hardly ever dreamt, and if he did they were never so _real._ He could still feel the pressure of his brother's hands holding him up. He could still smell the distinct scent of Asgard. It had been a seemingly unimportant memory—a seemingly unimportant retreat to the past. But seeing it now—hearing the horrid truth in his brother's playful words—meant so much more. Giving Jane a small smile, the God of Thunder lied: 

"Yes, of course." 

* * *

_Loki squinted his eyes as the bright morning sunlight assaulted his senses. Walking around the vast land of the palace, he could smell the wonderful scent of a morning shower, and still see the sparkling glitter of the water droplets on the grass. He had been tasked with finding his brother who—for the last hour—had avoided his eye. Though it was a beautiful day, Odin had insisted the three of them spend it indoors discussing politics and Thor, true to form, had vanished._

_Turning the corner, Loki was met with one of their many gardens. The palace was surrounded by many of them, each filled with some of the most spectacular plants in the realms. They were a peaceful place—a place he often found himself going to escape the inevitable stress that came with being royalty—and he knew Thor would tease him for centuries if he knew his fancy for them._

_"Loki!"_

_Looking around, a smile found its way to the prince's features as his eyes were met with a familiar gold. Hidden within the gardens was a slender woman whose long dark hair was a stark contrast to the brilliant colored flowers around her. Feeling the heat in his face rise, he watched as she picked up her dress and walked over to him—her small muddied feet leaving a tiny trail behind her._

_"My Lord, what a surprise!" she beamed, "I have not seen you in some time."_

_Loki couldn't help but smile at her._

_"A thousand apologies, Milady." He replied smoothly, "Father has been keeping Thor and I terribly busy. I have very much missed spending time with you."_

_With his words, the prince watched in satisfaction as a bright crimson hue was painted against her fair features. He noticed that she bit her lip nervously, before insisting that he come keep her company while she worked in the gardens. He could tell her once euphoric voice was filled now with a hesitation—her stunning eyes avoiding his._

_Following the Goddess towards her place of work, he took note of all the small vials she had laid out against the beautiful rockwork of the garden. Sitting down, he watched as she picked up her dress again and walked barefoot into the garden._

_"Forgive me, Eir." He started, looking over the vials, "But what are you doing, exactly?"_

_The prince could hear a small laugh from behind the leaves._

_"Harvesting for new medicine, of course." She explained matter-of-factly, "How else do you think healing happens?"_

_Picking up one of the bottles, he sniffed the contents and gagged_

_"I thought magic as well." Loki offered, "Tis more effective. Less volatile."_

_With that, he smiled as she walked out of the garden and placed a number of leaves in a small jar. Taking a moment to rest before returning to her job, she sent the prince an amused look._

_"You know well magic is costly." She countered, "Besides, I quite like these gardens."_

_Loki felt his breath catch in his throat as she sat next to him. He could smell the beautiful scent of flowers on her, and see the sunlight scattering off of her eyes in a breathtaking way. Closing his eyes, he tried to maintain his composure as she began to speak._

_"Tis Yarrow" she explained, placing a small leaf in his hand, "For wounds."_

_His eyes watched as she placed a beautiful purple and white flower in his palm. For a second, he could feel her fingertips brush his skin causing his heart to skip._

_"For sleep." She smiled, "Fascinating, yes?"_

_Before he could think, she was back in the garden. Gripping the small flowers in his hand, Loki let out another frustrated sigh. This was torture of the worst kind, he was sure. They had been dancing this dance for too long—he would be lying if he thought they were friends—they weren't._

_They both knew it._

_"I have some others, too." She explained from behind a flower, "In the healing chambers, I cultivate some fairly unique ones from Alfheim and Jotunheim."_

_Before he could answer her, a familiar voice called out._

_"Jotunheim?" Thor bellowed, "Lady Eir, have I ever told you of my father's glorious battle with the Frost Giants?"_

_Not waiting for her to answer, Loki groaned as Thor came over and sat down next to him. His brother looked as though he had been training most of the morning, keeping himself busy and away from Odin's watchful eyes. With Thor now here, Loki knew he didn't have an excuse to avoid the palace much longer._

_"Twas when I was a child still, but my father led a valiant force against the Jotuns. Easily, by his own hand, he killed a million!"_

_To the younger prince's amusement, Thor was met only by a feminine laugh from within the gardens._

_"My Lord, forgive me." Eir snickered, "But I know well there are not that many giants."_

_"Well of_ course _, Milady." Loki smirked towards his brother, "Tis only so because Odin slayed a_ million _of them."_

_Green eyes watched as Thor stood up with a frown on his face._

_"You are no fun." Thor decided, "Brother, I suppose we best stop avoiding father. I will see you soon."_

_Watching Thor sulk off towards the palace, Loki knew his brother was right. Looking towards the woman in the flowers, he gave her a disappointed look._

_"Many apologies, Lady Eir." He offered, "I know not how many more times my brother will insist on retelling tales of such monsters."_

_To his surprise, she just shook her head as she joined him once more. He could see her concentrating as she picked a new vial to place some vibrant flowers in before lifting her eyes towards his._

_"I do not think they are monsters." She remarked, closing one of the vials tightly, "Your brother greatly exaggerates."_

_This time, Loki couldn't help but laugh at her blatant naivety._

_"You, Eir, have apparently never been to Jotunheim." He smiled, admiring her for a moment, "Not surprising, really. Tis a dangerous place for a woman."_

_This time, the woman just narrowed her eyes at him. Though he couldn't explain it, disappointment rushed through his body in seeing her obvious disagreement with his words._

_"But I most certainly have." She corrected, sitting next to him again, "In my youth, your mother insisted I learn healing arts from different realms—especially Jotunheim. Though I knew not the reason then…"_

_He noticed that she paused a moment with hesitation evident in her voice._

_"I understand now."_

_Rolling his eyes at her, he shook his head._

_"Forgive me, Eir, but I have a hard time believing that group of barbarians could have taught you anything." He argued, "You are far too clever for them."_

_The woman sitting next to him just looked at her hands for a moment, avoiding his gaze. He couldn't understand what she was so hesitant about._

_"I learned quite lot, Loki." She insisted, "Jotun anatomy and physiology is quite fascinating to me. Did you know they differ from Asgardians quite a bit? Anatomically, their visceral organs are inversed. Amazing, really."_

_The prince could notice that she seemed to light up when she spoke of medicine. As she spoke of the differences in physiology, his mind was lost in the smile on her face. In the palace, he seldom saw such euphoria on the handmaiden's features but when she spoke with him—when she was finally allowed to speak of things she truly loved—she lit up far brighter than even the most stunning goddesses._

_"My apologies, my Lord." She said shaking her head, "I know well this subject is of little interest to you. I believe you must meet with your father, yes?"_

_Letting out a sigh, Loki gave a sympathetic smile towards the goddess. He could see the visible disappointment on her face as she looked to the small flowers in her hands—picking off clusters of small, pink petals._

_"Unfortunately." he whispered, picking up the delicate petals from her dirt-laden hands, "And what does this do?"_

_Again, a pink hue enveloped her cheeks as he held her hand in his. Smiling towards him, Loki could feel his face heat up as she put a small finger to his chest and looked into his eyes._

_"Tis good for your heart."_

Sitting up, The God of Mischief blinked a few times in the darkness. Lately his mind had been reeling with images of The Other and Thanos. In the silence of his slumber he had become well acquainted with miserable memories and painful recollections. He had certainly never had anything like _that._

Rubbing his forehead, he thought back to the images from centuries ago. Had they come flooding back because his mind had been wrought with guilt as of late? Had they come back because he had been forced into contact with the people he most wanted to avoid? The images from so long ago were unwanted—they were troublesome. He was a criminal, a prisoner or Asgard, and he had no use for such damaging nostalgia. 

But as he sat alone he knew that it was not just a nostalgia that came with these memories. Casting aside all useless emotions, what resonated more powerfully was the haunting realization of words from a time long past. Recalling how easily him and Thor dismissed the Jotuns—how easily he hated his own kind—shook him. And yet… 

She hadn't. 

Letting out a frustrated breath, Loki felt the guilt crawling back with a devastating ferocity. Guilty because he had become the very monster he spoke ill of all those years ago. Guilty because he had thrown away everything in a futile attempt to become something he wasn't. The pain that came with that memory was far worse than anything Thanos could have done to him—far worse than any threat The Other could have screamed in his face. 

He truly wished their words plagued his mind instead of hers. 

* * *

_Eir could feel the slight chill on her face as she walked through the flowered field of Fólkvangr—the land of Asgard's slain. Casting her golden eyes over the breathtaking landscape, the Goddess could see her destination in the distance. Far beyond the entrance of Fólkvangr, a golden hall lay nestled in the soul-laden land. In the distance, she could see the famous Sessrúmnir—Freya's hall._

_Lifting up her dress, Eir swallowed hard as she continued her trek through the field. For most of Asgard, the field was nothing more than a beautiful place to remember the fallen warriors. To her and her eyes, however, it was much more. All around her, she could see the ghostly auras of Asgard's fallen. They grasped at her, their deathly touches nipping her delicate skin…reminding her that she was not apart of their world._

_Closing her eyes, Eir started to run as she heard the ghostly wails of the sprits chase her. She could hear the snapping of flowers under her feet and feel the butterflies dancing past her face as she quickened her pace. Finally reaching the end of the field, the Goddess raised her eyes to meet the large, golden steps of Sessrúmnir._

_Finally, she was there._

_As her shaky hands opened the large doors to the hall, Eir could hear the faint chime of music. A sickly sweet smell filled the air as she entered the hall, and all around her elegantly dressed woman played equally beautiful instruments. As far as she could see, gems and silver glittered the ceiling as if it were the night sky. It was a truly spectacular hall, one fit perfectly for a Goddess known for beauty and love._

_In the distance, Eir could see the Goddess herself. Seated at a large golden throne, a spectacularly beautiful woman sat-Freya. She was one of the Vanir—an Asgardian sister race—and was known throughout the realms for her beauty. Standing in her presence, Eir felt truly unworthy—for her figure paled in comparison to the Goddess before her. Taking a deep bow, Eir presented herself before Freya._

_"Why, this is quite a surprise!" Freya's voice sang out, "The Goddess of Medicine has come to my hall. Your domain is the body, Eir. I know not why you have sought my council."_

_Eir could feel her heart beating quicker as she heard the woman speak. She felt ashamed to be seeking Freya's help in this matter, for the Goddess was right—her domain was the very healing she so desperately needed. Swallowing her pride, Eir cast her golden eyes into Freya's crystal blue._

_"Please, Lady Freya." Eir whispered, her voice shaking, "You know well my magic works not on myself."_

_Gold eyes watched as Freya sent an appraising look over their owner. Taking a deep breath, Eir shuttered as she saw the look on the Goddess's face as she cast her gaze over her dark hair and unimpressive womanly form._

_"So be it, Eir." Freya decided, "Though I work not without pay. I trust you brought tribute?"_

_Fishing through her pockets, Eir's shaking hands handed the only thing of value she owned to the waiting handmaiden. A sadness came over her as she watched the handmaiden present the delicate golden necklace to the Goddess in front of her. Her chest hurt as she watched Freya run her perfect fingers over its exquisite detail—seemingly pleased with the elegance that it emitted._

_"Tis fit for a queen." Freya admitted, "As a servant to Frigga, I pray you didn't steal this."_

_Closing her eyes, Eir felt her heart become heavy as she remembered the warm fingers of the man she loved dance over her bare shoulders when he gave it to her. She could almost feel his breath on her neck as he told her that he loved her…almost taste the wine on his lips as he kissed her. She could still feel her heart quicken as she remembered him telling her it matched her eyes—that she looked stunning. Feeling unwilling tears on her face, Eir shook her head._

_"I swear to you, my lady." She asserted, "Tis mine."_

_Eir cringed as Freya threw the necklace that meant so much to her on the floor next to her throne. Wiping away the tears on her face, the Goddess watched as Freya gave her a wicked smile._

_"How may I be of service, Eir?" she asked, "Shall I make you more beautiful? Make a man love you? What is it?"_

_Biting her lip, Eir cast her eyes to the floor to avoid the prying eye of Freya. She could feel her chest becoming tighter as she tried to hold back tears-not wanting to say the words that sat on her lips. To admit to Freya her shortcoming would make it real…would make every lie she told to herself hurt more. Eir could feel the warm tears falling from her eyes as a weak admission left her lips._

_"I am barren." She whispered, her voice breaking, "I pray you can help me."_

_As Eir lifted her glossy eyes towards the beautiful Vanir before her, she could see the obvious shock on the woman's face. This time, Freya's analytical eyes meant so much more. Though it must have been moments, the silence in the hall seemed to last ages. With each passing second, Eir could feel her heart breaking._

_"My powers over Fertility are not absolute." Freya explained with some sympathy evident in her voice, "I fear I cannot fix whatever defect causes you trouble, Lady Eir."_

_This time, her body could not hold back the tears. With this news, Eir could feel her whole being shake as saline left her glittering eyes. Falling to her knees, the woman could feel her hand shaking as she put it to her lips-trying very much to contain a sob. Casting her metallic eyes towards Freya, she begged:_

_"Please, my Lady." Eir whispered shakily, "I will do anything."_

_Eir could see Freya sending her a sympathetic look._

_"Fear not, Eir." She assured, "Though you may be barren, any man on Asgard would be pleased to have a Goddess as his wife. If this man claims to love you less because of this…well, he is unworthy of you."_

_Letting out a jagged breath, Eir closed her eyes in thought. She could remember the concerned look on her lover's face as she admitted the truth she had been trying to hide. She could still feel the strength of his embrace as he assured her that his love for her remained unwaivered—that it changed nothing. Despite all this, she now found herself crying at Freya's feet._

_"Tis not that." Eir explained with her voice failing, "Tis—"_

_Eir could feel a panic overcome her as a look of shocked understanding washed over Freya's fair features—a sick smile curling on her delicate, painted lips._

_"Tis not enough to simply love him." Freya finished, "I can only think of_ one _situation for which that would be so."_

_The Goddess of Medicine could feel her bottom lip trembling as devastated tears fell from her eyes. As she cast her gaze away from the Goddess of Love, Eir knew her silence acted as a painful admission. Golden eyes watched as Freya picked up the gilded necklace she had given as tribute once again. This time, she watched as Freya looked over the details with a newfound understanding that gave birth to a wicked smile across her features._

_"He will choose power over you." Freya decided, running her fingers over the designs, "No amount of love can quench the desire to be king."_

_Without thinking, Eir spoke._

_"You're wrong." She insisted more to herself, "He swears this changes nothing."_

_Eir could feel large tears trickle down her cheeks as the malicious smile returned to Freya's lips._

_"Then why are you here?"_

_Closing her eyes, Eir jumped as the necklace was thrown towards her on the golden floor. She could feel an impossible sadness wash over her as Freya's words stabbed her—the truth of them clawing at her heart. She knew that it would not be his choice in the end. The Queen, despite being her ever-faithful servant, would never allow her son to wed a broken woman. She would never allow her son to choose a woman who could not bear him an heir._

_"Take your pathetic hope with you." Freya decided, "In the end, it will be_ you _he throws away."_

With a jolt, the golden halls of Sessrúmnir were replaced with white walls. In her bed, Eir stared at the blank ceiling above her—wet tears streaming down her face. Everything had felt so _real—_ everything had been just as she remembered itーjust as she had been trying to forget. 

Not willing herself, broken cries left her lips. Alone in the darkness, the Goddess couldn't stop herself from sobbing. Crying because she had been stupid…crying because Freya had been _right_. Crying because she now found herself tasked with fixing the irreparable slights of a man who threw her away in the wake of hers. Crying because though she possessed one of the greatest minds in Asgard… 

She had been daft enough to believe a beautiful liar. 


	20. Little Talks

Casting tired eyes towards her reflection, Eir let out a shuttering sigh. She had not slept in days—not since the soul gem had been reunited with its family. Though she didn't want to admit it, the whispers were becoming harder to ward off. Just as her body was ready for slumber, the soothing voice would return…beckoning her to give in. It spoke of a beautiful place—another world—free from the pain and misery that her reality so readily bore her. 

It was tempting, to give in. The last few weeks had dealt its physiological toll on her, and the Asgardian wanted nothing more than for it to be over. And when she finally had a chance to sleep—when the whispers finally stood at bay for a moment—she was plagued by something worse. The night had painted horrid memories in her slumber, and had forced her to remember the best and worst times in her life. 

And she wanted to scream. 

Picking up a hairbrush, the Goddess cast her eyes towards the dark scar on her hand. It stood as a reminder that the threat of the stone was real. It stood as a reminder that if she gave into the voice, if she allowed herself to get the sleep she needed, she would not survive. Unlike last time, she was alone now…she didn't have someone to save her from the unknown. 

Brushing her dark hair, the woman gritted her teeth as she thought of her savior. She was mindless for saving him— _absolutely_ daft. She had nothing to prove to Thor, and no one would have thought less of her for leaving his pathetic soul to rot on Asgard. Since his return, he had done nothing but spit venomous threats her way. He had done nothing but wish her dead and force her to watch him kill. To think that she was mindless enough to save him because of some promise made her sick. 

But as she gazed down at her hand again, she was reminded of how his eyes looked when she was attacked by the stone. There was a flicker of compassion in them, and when he touched his fingers to her bleeding hand she could have sworn he cared. When SHIELD had beaten her she could have sworn she heard heartbreak in his cracking voice. 

She could have sworn she saw him crying. 

Gritting her teeth again, she threw the brush across the bathroom. It was dangerous thinking of him as anything other than the monster he was. Her memories may have reminded her of the good man he once had been, but they also reopened the devastating wounds he caused her. No matter how much he may have meant to her at one time, she had to remind herself that this was not the Loki she knew best. 

This one was a monster in every sense of the word. 

Covering up the circles under her eyes, Eir wanted to cry at her reflection. She wanted to scream that she was forced to fight this impossible battle against Loki and his sickness. She wanted to scream that she was forced to pretend like everything was all right—wanted to scream because she was tired of lying to Thor. 

Loki was never going to get better; the small glimmers of hope she had seen were just her mind playing tricks. The look of concern in his eyes was simply her heart wishing it to be so. He didn't care who he hurt, or how he did it. She had realized the hard way that he cared only about himself—cared only about power and the throne. And though she so desperately wanted the Loki she once knew back… 

She knew he was as good as dead. 

* * *

Loki looked down to the silver door handle that now faced him again. After the unusual dreams had interrupted his slumber, he was powerless to forget the images and words he had been victim to. They were memories that he had tried to throw away—memories that harbored emotions that he no longer had need of—but despite all of his mental blocks, they kept seeping back. 

While he had been falling from Asgard and traversing the great expanse of the universe, he had come to realize that it would be best to only rely on himself. He had decided that after his family had hurt him—after his family had deceived him in the most devastating of ways—that he was no longer in need of anyone else. If he kept himself alone he wouldn't be forced to bear the heavy emotions that came with disappointment and he could escape the inevitable pain company brought him. 

He had been doing well, too. By attempting murder, by destroying cities, and selling his soul to some questionable characters, the prince had thought he had fully eradicated any semblance of the man he once was. In doing so, he hoped that it would only push the others away—make them hate him—and he would be free from their wretched attachments for good. A life free from emotional attachments would only make him stronger, and he would use that power to show all of Asgard that he wasn't second best. 

But like so many of his schemes, fate had foiled it. Thor, despite all logic, claimed to love him. Despite sending the destroyer after him and despite trying to level Midgard, Thor's allegiance remained unwaivered. To his mind, Loki couldn't comprehend what kept Thor bound to him. He couldn't understand how his brother could forgive a monster. 

And yet it wasn't just Thor who demonstrated this behavior—no. The Asgardian who was behind the door had also baffled the ever-calculating prince. Of everyone she perhaps had the best reason to hate him, and yet her actions suggested otherwise. How she could have felt anything for him with the knowledge of his true birth was beyond him. In seeing his memory with wiser eyes, it was clear that the doctor had known he was not of Asgard all along—and that, for reasons he couldn't articulate, pained him in the worst ways. 

Finally taking a breath, the man put his hands to the silver handle and gave it a fateful turn. Blinking a few times, green eyes scanned the seemingly empty room. It looked very much like his—plain, and nothing like Asgard. The bed was neatly made, and a pair of small shoes sat untouched at his feet. Swallowing hard, the prince could feel his heartbeat quicken as he heard the closing of a door from the other edge of the guest room. 

"So you _are_ here." He sighed gratefully, "I feared I had missed you." 

To his disappointment, the woman just avoided his gaze. Almost mechanically, he watched as she put on a sweater and walked over to attend to the lonely shoes—the silence between them deafening. Letting out a frustrated sigh, the prince put a firm hand on her shoulder to stop her from walking away. 

"I need to speak with you." He insisted, "Tis about—" 

As she turned around to face him, however, Loki was once again attacked by a wave of overwhelming grief. He could tell that she was trying to hide it—but his sharp eyes knew right away that she had been crying. The spark in her metallic eyes that he once knew well was blank—seemingly devoid of any light. What was standing before him was something much colder than the figure he remembered in his dream. 

"Are you alright?" he whispered worriedly, "You look as though you haven't slept." 

To this, he watched as the woman just looked away from him. 

"Of what importance is it to you, my Lord?" 

Blinking a few times in confusion, Loki watched as she walked away and put her shoes on. 

"I wish not to see you hurt." He insisted, "If you are unwell—" 

He was interrupted by a bitter laugh. 

"I thought you wished me dead." She muttered, lacing her shoe tightly, "I remember well you screaming that you hated me. I remember you wishing I had died in the snow." 

Loki was silent as she continued. 

"I remember those mortals _beating_ me half to death before you overcame your selfish pride." She added angrily, "Don't speak now like you care." 

Swallowing hard, the prince could feel the words from her lips cut into him like a knife. He had never heard her speak with such hatred, and for some reason it devastated him knowing it was directed towards him. The words didn't hurt because she was mad at him—no—they hurt because they were _true._

"You must know I didn't mean what I said." 

Loki cringed at the weakness of his own words. Even now, he couldn't bring himself to simply _apologize_. Even now, he couldn't simply say he was sorry for everything he had done. As such, he was not surprised when the woman just shook her head and dismissed his words. 

"Why are you here?" she demanded, "In case you are too daft to tell, I don't want to see you." 

The prince could feel a shiver down his spine as the chill of her words reached him. Closing his eyes in thought for a moment, he sighed. Standing in front of her now, all the fears from the other day came rushing back. He felt childish for feeling this way; he was a prince, and was not used to feeling so small. But as he heard the venom in her voice, and as he saw the hatred in her eyes, he knew he couldn't do it. 

He couldn't say it. 

"I know not." He lied, "I thought—" 

"I know." She interrupted, "You came seeking forgiveness." 

To this, he was silent. 

"Tis obvious, really." She mused, "One would have to be _blind_ not to see the guilt painted on your face." 

Loki gritted his teeth as she spoke. It was uncomfortable having her so easily read him. He felt exposed—and he wanted to scream at the fact that she knew him so well. 

"The true question is though—why do you want it?" she asked, finally looking into his eyes, "Do you desire it because you are truly _sorry?_ " 

Her eyes remained fixed on his for a moment. 

"Or is it because you realize you are _alone_?" 

Feeling his breath catch in his chest, the man knew she was right. Though he had been denying it, the realization that he had no one left was shaking him. Though he claimed it didn't bother him, the notion that no one would mourn his death when it finally came by Thanos's hand upset him. It upset him to look back into memories of a time gone by and see everything he was lacking now. 

"I…I don't know." He decided, "Both, perhaps." 

To this, he watched as she shook her head and pushed past him to the door. Closer now, he could see the redness in her eyes and the bitten lips. What stood next to him was a shell of the woman he saw in his dream—his desire for the throne had effectively destroyed the Eir he once knew well. 

"Well, once you return to Asgard how about you mull it over with Sigyn." She spat while opening the door, "I'm sure your _betrothed_ can help you sort out your dilemma much better than I." 

And with that she was gone. 

Leaving him standing silent in her doorway. 

* * *

Sif rubbed her forehead as she poured herself a cup of coffee. She didn't know what was in the drink that made her wake up, but whatever it was she needed it. For some reason her sleep had been jolted time and time again by bizarre memories. They were littered with images of glorious battles and cheers from proud Asgardians. She could still taste fantastic food and hear the music of a thousand festivals. 

They were glorious memories, most of them. But within them she was reminded of the times her and Thor spent together. She was reminded of all the looks she thought once meant something and the smiles he'd send to her from across the battlefields. She could remember the dances and how her heart skipped when his hand met hers—a blush on her face as he twirled her to the music. 

But when morning came it was over. She did not find herself on Asgard—she did not find herself surrounded by splendor. Instead, the memories were replaced with the dismal situation she now found herself in. She was forced to watch Thor give Jane the same smiles from her dream. 

It was torture. 

"Hey, did anyone else have weird dreams?" Darcy asked walking in, "I mean, it could have been the midnight snack I ate. I didn't trust it and—" 

Sif could feel the weight of a shocked silence at the table. As she looked into the eyes of the Warriors Three and Thor, she could tell that they too hard weird visions. 

"I fear mine wasn't exactly _weird."_ Frandall remembered wistfully, "Pleasant, almost. A particularly attractive blonde and I after a party—" 

"Don't elaborate, please." Hogun interrupted, "But yes, Lady Darcy." 

"Weird." The girl muttered, pop tart in hand, "I was forced to remember a few college experiences I _really—"_

"Please, don't." Jane insisted, rubbing her forehead, "So we all had weird dreams. It was probably something we all ate. Not a big deal." 

But before anyone could comment about the experiences further, Sif noticed that the scientist walked in the room. She had been told that the man could turn into an unstoppable monster in an instant, and every time he walked into a room she felt a shiver down her spine. For now, at least, he appeared harmless enough. 

"Actually, it _was_ a big deal." Bruce muttered, "Kate accidently left the gem responsible for time out. She has done nothing but apologize all morning, but as long as no one's hurt, I'm happy." 

The warrior goddess laughed a little to herself. Though he spoke of injury, she knew well that memories were not painless. They may not leave horrid scars on the body, but the pain they caused the mind was often unbearable. 

"Kate and I are working on the last stone now." Bruce explained, "We have already started feeling ill, so it is _imperative_ that you let me know of any side-effects." 

To this, Sif swallowed hard; Eir had told her the trouble the Soul Gem had caused her, and it scared her to think that all of their minds could become vulnerable to it. The gem was capable of much more than bad dreams—the doctor claimed she nearly lost her mind. 

"After our analysis is complete, we should be able to weaponize them effectively." Bruce added, "Whoever is behind this threat won't stand much of a chance." 

There was a silence amongst them for a moment before Thor spoke softy. 

"And where is that threat, good Heimdall?" 

Sif lifted her eyes towards the gatekeeper's worried face. 

"Close." He admitted, "I am blinded to the true power behind it, but tis close. Uncomfortably so." 

"Then we will work quickly." Bruce decided, picking up his drink, "Very sorry again about everything!" 

The warrior watched as the man shuffled out of the dining room, balancing a plate of food and making his way back towards what Sif knew was the lab. The notion that the threat was close unnerved her. Whoever was behind this was more powerful than anything they had ever faced—and the idea that some of the people she was sitting with could be dead in the coming days was maddening. But before she could fall victim to the thoughts of a battle drawing near, she caught eye of another Asgardian buttoning up a jacket and walking through the room. 

"Where do you think _you're_ going, House?" Tony smirked, eating a doughnut, "What, breakfast not good enough for you?" 

Sif could see the exhaustion in the doctor's eyes as she gave Iron Man a weak smile and shook her head. 

"I simply wish to see the city." Eir lied, "I assure you, Mr. Stark, morning meal has always been lovely." 

But before Sif could offer to go with her, the mortal next to Thor sat up from her seat and beamed a bright smile at the pale looking Eir. 

"Perfect!" Jane grinned, "I'll go with you. I actually wanted to talk to you, anyway!" 

Narrowing her eyes towards the mortal, Sif watched as Jane gave a hesitant kiss to Thor, and wished them all goodbye. The warrior could see awkwardness in the smile she gave Eir, and noticed her obvious nervousness when she walked out of the room. Whatever she wanted to speak with Eir about was something important, and considering the mortal appeared to be in perfect health… 

She knew it had nothing to do with medicine. 


	21. Thank You

Loki could see his breath as he sat outside on the platform on Stark Tower. Down in the city below there were dozens of multi-colored lights and bows in celebration of some Midgardian holiday. It was repulsive watching everyone be so jovial—it was sickening hearing all the music and seeing all the lights. 

For the first time in a while he actually missed Asgard. He didn't miss the pain that wretched realm brought him, but he missed the luxuries of home. His place in the palace was an escape, his own expanse of serenity that he sorely missed. He missed going to the libraries and traversing the many gardens that surrounded the palace. He missed leaving everyone behind for days and exploring the many forests and mountains. 

He missed being a prince. 

"Brother, why do you torture yourself in this weather?!" Thor bellowed from behind, "Tis bitter cold out. Come inside." 

Narrowing his green eyes, Loki growled. 

"Leave me alone, Thor." 

From behind, Loki could hear Thor let out an audible sigh as footsteps became louder. Thor was one of the last people he wanted to see right now. Thor represented everything he didn't have—the approval of Asgard, his royal title, _friends_ —it was maddening. He didn't need Thor trying to make him feel better whilst flaunting his good fortune. He didn't need Thor showing up and making him feel _worse._

"Do you remember, brother, that time we went to the dwarves?" Thor asked quietly, "When we sought a gift for mother?" 

Avoiding eye contact, Loki let out a bitter laugh. 

"You mean when she scolded us for days?" Loki muttered, eyes still fixated on the city below, "If so, then yes." 

There was a silence between the two for a moment. Casting a quick glance towards the God of Thunder, Loki noticed a distant sadness in his eyes. It was just like Thor to wear his emotions so openly on his face. Even as children, Thor could never keep a secret—could never hide his feelings. Thor was a pathetic liar, and Loki knew he didn't come to simply remind him of the weather. 

"Do you ever think back to those days, Loki?" Thor wondered, warm drink in hand, "What happened to us?" 

Loki almost wanted to laugh at the audacity of the question. The true inquiry should have been what _hadn't_ happened. They had grown up under the false pretenses that they were kin. They had grown up under a constant rivalry—always trying to outdo each other to get the approval of Odin. It was a volatile situation, and he wasn't surprised that things ended up how they were now. 

And when Loki did think back to the days Thor spoke of, it brought nothing but a bitter taste to his mouth. Stories from a time long past were a painful reminder of so much, and Loki liked not to dwell on them. He didn't want to remember the family he had. He didn't like to remember the friends and the life he loved. He didn't like to remember the shadow that he grew up in. 

He wished Thor hadn't brought it up. 

"Brothers grow apart naturally." Loki decided, "Considering we are not truly kin, you should be happy we made it this far." 

"You _are_ my brother, Loki." Thor insisted, looking towards him now, "Birthplace means nothing to me." 

This time, Loki couldn't hold back the angry laugh. 

"Oh, how you _lie_." He spat, "If all of Asgard knew the truth of my parentage, they would disown me like the lot of you!" 

In the corner of his eyes, Loki could see Thor's hurt expression. 

"None of us think that way." He whispered, "Jotun or not, you are my broth—" 

"I am not!" Loki screamed, finally reaching his breaking point, "I am not your brother!" 

Loki could feel his jaw clenching and his nails digging into his palms as he spoke. Thor didn't know what he was talking about when he spoke about family. He was always the favored child, always loved to the fullest. He didn't know what it felt like to be lied to, to be told you were part of a race that all of Asgard despised—a race _he_ despised. Thor could never understand that simply saying they were brothers changed nothing. 

Saying the phrase didn't make him feel like it was true. 

"At the end of this war, I will be slaughtered at the hands of Thanos." Loki hissed, glaring into Thor's shocked irises, "I will die like the animal I am, and none of you will mourn the loss of a monster." 

Thor looked down at his hands and shook his head. 

"I remember much mourning, Loki." He explained quietly, "I recall your dearest friends in tears for days. I remember Sigyn—" 

"Don't you _dare_ mention her." Loki interrupted angrily, "The only thing that harlot was mourning was the loss of her chance at royalty. Do not try to fabricate emotions that were never there." 

Perhaps sensing something in his tone, Loki was grateful when Thor decided to drop the subject. 

"Regardless." Thor started slowly, "I never want to feel the pain of losing you again, Loki." 

Thor paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. 

"I never wanted you to hate me." He continued on, "I am sorry for whatever I have done to make you feel this way." 

Casting a brief look over to Thor, Loki let out a frustrated groan. From the tone in his voice and the look in his eyes, he could tell that Thor was speaking the truth. Despite everything he had done to him—despite trying to take over Midgard and Asgard—Thor truly loved him. Despite everything, Thor seemed to forgive him. 

And for the first time in a while, Loki felt as though they were truly brothers. 

"I know not what you want me to say." Loki admitted at barely above a whisper, "I cannot bring myself to say the same." 

To this, Thor simply sent him an understanding look. 

"You need not say anything, Loki." Thor smiled sadly, "I simply wanted you to know." 

They sat in silence for a while, just listening to the orchestra of sounds from the city below. Loki wanted so badly to be able to say the same to Thor—he wanted so badly to be able to apologize for everything—but his mind wouldn't let him. For the first time, Loki felt as though he was not in control of himself. He felt as though he was truly damaged, as if some sickness had captured his mind. For every time he contemplated help, another piece of him screamed the thoughts away. Every time he considered apologizing, some side of him told him he would be weak for doing so. 

He was tired of feeling so disjointed. 

Sending a look towards Thor, Loki simply gave his brother a small smile. 

"Thank you, Thor." 

* * *

"What about this one?" 

Eir raised an eyebrow towards the mortal as she held up another shirt. The woman had gone through every color and asked her how it looked—to which she replied the same exact answer: "Lovely, Miss Jane". It was absolutely maddening, and it just reaffirmed why the Asgardian never spent long days with the other handmaidens. She detested this game, and Jane was playing it perfectly. 

"Why don't you try on something nice?" Jane urged, "Don't make me do all the shopping." 

"Tis alright, Lady Jane." Eir muttered picking up a green scarf, "I need not look nice for anyone." 

With that, Jane walked off towards the dress section and started putting various pieces up to her body. Eir knew well that Jane didn't come with her to simply go shopping—she had been around liars far too frequently to be so easily fooled—and it was maddening watching Jane dance around the real question on her mind. 

"My mother was a doctor, you know!" Jane remarked from behind a dressing room door, "I always respected what she did. I figured if I didn't make it as an astrophysicist, I would go to school for nursing." 

Eir let out a yawn as Jane walked out and did a twirl in the dress. 

"What made you want to become a doctor?" 

Rubbing her eyes, the Asgardian let out a sigh as Jane walked back into the room. 

"I suppose I didn't have much of a choice." She admitted, "As a child, it was discovered that I had a certain talent for healing magic. It was a logical route, so I was trained as a healer from a young age." 

Eir could hear Jane shuffling with other dresses. 

"Oh, so how is the training in Asgard?" Jane continued, "Here on Earth it is a lot of schooling and tests—" 

"Lady Jane, forgive me." Eir interrupted, "I fear I have little patience. What is it you needed to speak with me about? I suspect it is not about Asgardian medical training." 

The goddess cringed at her own words. Her sleeplessness must have been finally affecting her. She certainly didn't mean to come off as _cold._ Her tone reminded her far too much of someone she hated—and she wanted very much to avoid turning into _him._

"My apologies." She amended, "I'm tired." 

"Don't worry about it." Jane decided, hanging a dress back up, "I wanted to talk to you about Thor." 

And there it was. 

The Asgardian tried to feign surprise the best she could. 

"I tried to speak with Darcy about this, but she hasn't been much help." Jane explained awkwardly, "I was hoping you could help me." 

"Milady, do you not think it best to simply ask Thor?" Eir offered, "It seems foolish for someone to be scared to speak with the person they love." 

"But that's just it." Jane said at barely above a whisper, "I don't know if I _do_." 

This time, Eir didn't need to fake the shock on her face. 

" _What?"_ she exclaimed, "How can you not _know?"_

Eir could tell that the mortal looked ashamed, and she was sure her continued look of shock was not helping the situation, but it was absolutely baffling to her that one would not know if they loved somebody. Jane was an astrophysicist—she was capable of making unbelievable discoveries—and it shocked her that someone so clever was so emotionally lost. 

"I'm just realizing I don't know him as well as I thought." Jane explained, "You worked for the royal family, right? You must know him better than anyone!" 

Putting her hands to her face, Eir let out a frustrated sigh. This was not the conversation she expected to be having with the mortal. She had thought it would be simple questions about Asgard. She thought Jane would ask about what Frigga's days were like, and what she could expect when she became queen…not _this._

"Milady, I still believe it best to speak with Thor." Eir offered again, "I'm sure he—" 

"I don't want to talk to him about this." Jane interrupted defiantly, "I don't want him to be upset with me." 

Rubbing her head again, Eir knew this was a losing battle. Despite Jane's wishes, she knew Thor would be furious when he found out about this conversation. Thor was a kind person, a _great_ prince, but the doctor knew it was best to not upset him. In the end, however, she gave in to the mortal. 

"I will try, Jane." Eir decided, "Though I fear I probably don't know Thor as well as you assume I do. Perhaps asking Lady Sif would be the better option." 

"She loves him and you _know_ it." Jane countered, "I don't need to upset a Goddess who could kill me." 

Eir decided she wouldn't tell Jane that she could stop her heart with her mind. 

Jane continued to look at various pieces of clothing, but the Goddess could see that the mortal's mind was calculating. She looked as if she was trying to think of the very best questions to ask—trying to decide what she truly wanted to know. But after long moments passed, Eir spoke up. 

"Thor is a wonderful man, Jane." She reassured, "Any woman on Asgard would be ecstatic to marry him." 

Jane looked at her accusingly. 

"Would you?" 

"Of course not." Eir decided quickly, holding back a laugh, "Thor is a noble prince. But I fear he is…" 

Her mind was reeling with a handful of reasons why she would never wish to be his wife. Thor was impulsive and thirsted for valor. He was stunning, of course, but behind his looks was very little. She admired a man with a sharp mind, and that was one attribute Thor sorely lacked. Thor did not own the quick thinking and silver tongue she admired. 

"Not my type." She decided finally, "Quite the opposite, really." 

Jane let out an audible sigh of frustration. 

"Me too." She admitted silently, "I can't bear the thought of being with a man who so willingly goes to war. I can't stand to think that he has killed as much as his terrible brother." 

Eir could feel her chest tightening as Jane spoke of Loki. 

"The more I learn about him—the more I learn of Asgard—the sicker I get." Jane continued, "I can't marry a man I don't think I love." 

Without willing it to, a bitter laugh escaped the goddess's lips. If only such sentiment was more common on Asgard, perhaps she wouldn't find herself alone and miserable. Perhaps she wouldn't have found herself on this futile mission forced to be company with the person she most wanted to avoid. 

"On Asgard, love is not a prerequisite for marriage, Lady Jane." Eir assured, "By wedding Thor, you will live a most glorious life. Love, if you are so lucky, will follow." 

Jane shook her head. 

"I can't do that. That's _completely_ backwards." Jane decided, shivering, "I've always put my research first. I always kind of expected falling in love to be like a movie—swept off my feet and overwhelmed with emotion. But I don't feel that way with Thor. I don't even know what I'm suppose to feel." 

Eir sent a confused look towards the human. 

"Have you ever been in love?" 

"I'm a millennia old, Lady Jane." The goddess remarked slowly, "I would find it rather _pathetic_ to have never been in love." 

Jane's face was filled with embarrassment. 

"You just look so young!" she tried to correct, "I forget that Asgardians are so..." 

Jane shook her head. 

"But really—what is it like?" she asked further, "Darcy says I should just be grateful that I have someone as attractive as Thor. She is young and doesn't understand. You seem far more level headed than the rest, please." 

Looking down to the green scarf in Jane's hand, the goddess just sighed. If she could run out of the store now, she would. This was another topic she didn't particularly want to discuss with the mortal, or remember for that matter. But when she looked into the sad eyes of the scientist, she couldn't help but give in. 

"Both wonderful and terrible." Eir decided, "Tis as if you want nothing more than to be with that person. You yearn just to know they are alright—to know they are thinking of you, too." 

She paused to think of what else to say. 

"When they speak, tis as if no one else in the realms matters." She sighed, "Nothing sounds as good as the beating of their heart. Nothing feels as good as them holding you tight." 

The pain in her chest was back. 

"And when they hurt, you hurt." She continued quietly, "And if something happens to them…if they are lost…" 

She could remember feeling her heart stop when Thor told her Loki had fallen off the Bifrost. She could remember screaming into a pillow until her throat went raw—she could remember locking everyone out. She could remember how miserable she felt at his funeral—and how much it hurt to watch everyone comfort Sigyn whose tears were nothing more than pathetic acting. 

"You feel a pain indescribable." She shuttered, "Love makes you blind—makes you _completely_ daft. Tis best to simply avoid it." 

When she looked back at Jane, the mortal had a shocked look on her fair face. She noticed that the physicist simply looked down at the clothes in her hands—biting her bottom lip in thought. Finally meeting eyes with the mortal once more, Eir gave her a sad smile. 

"So," she sighed, "Do you love him?" 

Jane gripped her clothes tighter and shook her head. 

"No." 

  



	22. Dead Ringer

Bruce swallowed hard as he transferred the green gem to another machine for analysis. There was something about this one—something different from the other gems—that unsettled him. Even when he was alone in the lab he felt as if someone was there. He had checked the cameras multiple times, of course, but it had just been him and the glowing stone. 

Every now and again, against the singing of analytical machines, he would hear a whisper. They weren't sinister voices at all; most of the time they were calm and inviting, but they were unsettling in any case. They spoke of a peaceful place where he would finally be free from the horrors of his other self—an intriguing offer. 

"I think this stone is…alive." Bruce muttered, looking at the various screens, "I am consistently reading waves consistent with conscious thought." 

To his left, he watched as the small brunette adjusted her glasses and looked at the numbers on the screen. 

"The data certainly suggests that." She agreed, "What does it mean?" 

Focusing on the stone, Bruce shivered. If the stone did have conscious thought, it was a huge breakthrough for science. The implications of conscious thought existing beyond the confines of a body were massive—the idea that the mind was an independent entity would open new questions in many arenas. 

But there were far more pressing questions-questions far more important than what aspects of science such a discovery would shake. No, what was still unknown was what this stone was capable of. The fact that it was somehow living opened up many challenges. How would they control it? Could it control the other stones? Bruce didn't know, and he hated not knowing. 

"I'm not sure yet, Kate." He sighed, rubbing his head, "All I know is that I feel very sick." 

Kate returned a confused look from her place in the laboratory. 

"Do you think the stone is doing it?" she asked worriedly, "Maybe you just caught a cold? It _is_ the middle of winter." 

"No." Bruce decided quickly, "It's not some cold. It has to be…" 

The man thought back to the videos he had been given from SHIELD. Within the files detailing the acquisition of the gems, there was interrogation footage pertaining to this particular stone. Thinking back to the images he saw only made him feel sicker. 

"I watched the interrogation of that Asgardian doctor. I can't remember her name." 

Bruce's thoughts were interrupted as Kate dropped something loudly on the metallic floors of the lab. 

"Eir?" 

Looking cautiously over towards his assistant, the doctor continued. 

"Yes, that sounds right." He said slowly, "Anyway, besides the hours SHIELD spent getting information about Loki, they managed to ask her about this stone." 

Kate's eyes were wide with interest. 

"Wait, Loki?" she asked, typing in data on a computer, "Did you learn anything interesting about him?" 

To this, Bruce simply laughed. 

"No, not really." He smiled, handing her some new papers, "There was a lot of screaming and threats. I didn't catch much." 

Kate remained quiet. 

"Anyway, between the screaming I managed to hear that this stone had been making her sick." Bruce explained, "I'm experiencing the same symptoms." 

"Well, I feel fine." The woman decided with a smile, "Maybe you should go home and rest? I can finish up from here. I promise—I won't leave the stone out this time!" 

Bruce could feel the stinging pain of a headache and the heat of a fever approaching. If he stayed in this environment any longer, he was worried that "The Other Guy" may decide to relieve him of lab duty. He supposed that Kate was skilled enough to finish the analysis. She was certainly a better option than The Hulk. 

"Are you sure, Kate?" he asked worriedly, "I hate to leave you here an—" 

"Go, Bruce!" she urged, waving him away, "I can take care of myself." 

With that, the scientist simply gave his assistant a grateful smile before grabbing his coat and exiting the lab… 

Far too sick to notice the satisfied smirk on his assistant's features. 

* * *

Eir rubbed her eyes as she opened the door to her guest room. Jane had kept her out most of the day and into the evening, talking to her about Asgard and what she should do about her relationship with Thor. The goddess had insisted that she was far from a relationship expert—that even her best relationships were decidedly twisted—and that Jane should simply follow her heart. 

It was pathetic advice, really. But Jane was clever, far more clever than most on Asgard even, and the goddess was certain that the mortal could make due with such cliché words. In the end, she was certain that Thor would be heartbroken. In all her years under the command of the royal family, she had never seen the God of Thunder so smitten. Perhaps it was for the best, however. 

Perhaps he would finally see who truly loved him. 

As the goddess started to hang up her coat, however, her thoughts were halted when a chill ran through her body. In the air was the unmistakable tingle of magic, and the doctor was suddenly left with the notion that she was no longer alone. 

"Did you have an enjoyable evening with Thor's mortal?" 

Turning around quickly, the woman narrowed her eyes at the younger prince on her bed. His green eyes were avoiding her harrowing gaze, his fingers tracing magic across the air carelessly. Though giving off an air of mischief, she could tell that he had come with much on his mind. She could see a great pain behind the spark in his eyes. 

Quite frankly, she didn't care. 

"I thought I made it very clear." She whispered warningly, "I don't want to see you." 

This time, his green eyes met hers and a small smirk found its way to his face. 

"Why is that exactly?" he wondered aloud, "Personally, I thought I had been on my best behavior." 

"Get out." 

To this, the doctor watched as the God of Lies stood up from her bed and started to walk over to her. Almost instinctively, she could feel her fists tightening and her jaw clenching. He had a smug look on his face, and she wanted nothing more than to slap it off of him. 

"Oh come now, Eir." He sighed, "I thought we were getting along _famously_. What changed?" 

She simply narrowed her eyes at him. 

"You know well what that time stone did." She muttered bitterly, "I know not what game you are playing, Loki, but you need to leave." 

Not surprisingly, the prince didn't move. She knew him well enough to know he wasn't going to listen—not in this state, at least. Loki liked getting what he wanted, he was _royalty_ after all, and the goddess knew he wasn't going to leave until he got just that. What that was, exactly, the Asgardian couldn't tell. 

"I have been feeling miserable as of late." He admitted quietly, "Were you not tasked to heal me? My brother would be disappointed to know you have been avoiding your job." 

She couldn't tell if he was lying or not. 

"I spared your life from the horrors that befell Asgard." She countered, "You are alive. I need not do more to please your brother." 

For some reason, a hurt expression washed over his features. She could sense that her answer was the one he didn't want to hear. 

"And what will become of me when this is over?" he asked quietly, "My mind will still be in ruins. You will have done nothing." 

Eir could feel her heart quickening under his words. If they survived, it wouldn't matter if she healed his mind. In the end, all of Asgard would still see him as a villain. Short of saving their home, the realm would see him as nothing more than a banished prince. The Royals would have no choice but to lock him up again, doomed to centuries of torture and filth. 

A fate, she too, would share for saving him. 

"What is wrong with me, Eir?" he inquired seriously, "I suspect you don't want me healed." 

Though not willing them to, the goddess could feel angry tears well up in her eyes. His eyes remained fixed on hers—seemingly boring through her —and it unsettled her. There was a painful truth to his words, a truth she had been trying to deny, and it shook her. Feeling the warmth of tears fall down her face, the doctor kept a defiant glare on the prince. 

"Do you want to know what's wrong with you?" she asked shakily, "You're a sociopath! Your inferiority complex drives you to do anything to get power—you don't care who you hurt to get what you want." 

Eir ripped her glare from his and gripped her fists so tightly she knew she drew blood. 

"You are so consumed with wanting to be your father's favorite, that you ignore the people that love you!" she hissed, "My magic cannot fix the fact that you're a spoiled prince who cannot open his eyes!" 

The goddess cringed as a cold hand came and grabbed her neck. Loki's face was positively rage-filled, his eyes glowing with an anger she had not seen in some time. Closing her eyes, Eir shivered as she felt his chilled breath on her neck and his fingers tighten against her skin. 

"I'm not spoiled!" he growled, "You don't know the pain I've been through! You don't know how great true power feels!" 

Before she could stop it, a bitter laugh left her lips. 

"I am the greatest healer the nine realms will ever know." She muttered, matching his angry stares with a defiant one of her own, "Do you truly think that comes without the burden of power?" 

His gaze remained fixed on hers, filled with contempt. 

"Power has bestowed upon me an unbearable guilt." Eir admitted, "I am haunted by the screams of people I was powerless to save in my youth. I still see the heartbroken faces of parents whose children I couldn't save. If you truly understood the pain true power brought, you would know it wise not to court it!" 

His hands remained locked on her neck as the silence passed between them. It was in these quiet moments that the goddess realized just how close they were—just how cool his angry breaths felt against her lips, and just how rapid his pulse felt against her skin. Swallowing hard, the goddess tried hard to keep her thoughts in the moment. 

She tried hard to stop her eyes from traveling from his eyes to his lips. 

Seemingly realizing their situation, Eir noticed that Loki let go of her quickly and created a healthy distance between them. In the mirror across the room she could see the distinct mark of a hand on her neck—red and bruising. To this image, the prince looked on in disgust. For the first time in a while, Loki looked as if he was truly ashamed of himself. 

"I apologize I—" he stuttered, "I didn't mean…I don't want to…" 

Letting out another groan, the God of Lies increased the distance between them and put his hands to his forehead. He let out a crazed, muffled scream—running his long fingers through his hair in anger. Standing silently, the goddess watched as the man seemingly battled with himself, the expression on his face filled with a mixture of self-hatred and grief. For the first time that night, she felt sorry for him. 

"Loki, tis alright." She lied, "Truly, I—" 

"No." he interrupted bitterly, "Nothing is alright." 

He grabbed his hair and tried to contain his frustration. 

"I am not in control anymore." He admitted ashamedly, "I don't know who I am." 

For reasons she didn't want to admit, her heart broke as he spoke. The man that stood before her was not the version she had seen only moments before. The man that stood before her now was the broken version of the monster she had come to know. The man that was standing before her was losing his grip on self-control and identity, and it was hard to watch. Suddenly, the extent of his mental turmoil had become all too apparent. 

Watching him suffer only made the pain in her chest tighten. 

"Why are you here, Loki?" 

Though it was only moments, the silence between them seemed to last for ages. 

"I want you to do your job." 

* * *

Bruce yawned as he lay back in his bed, the lights from the city creating patterns against his walls. It was a modest apartment, just far enough from Stark to keep his sanity. It was his own little piece of serenity, a place in the hectic city where he could feel at home. Since returning to his abode, he had even started to feel better. His headache had subsided, the shivers had stopped, and he was finally ridden of the haunting whispers. It seemed, logically, that the side effects were based on proximity. 

Smiling to himself, the scientist was finally happy they had completed their experiments. The stones were capable of unimaginable things—their experiments proving that they were capable of travel through space-time and altering the laws of physics. If properly used, he was certain the Avengers could tackle any opponent. Whoever Loki was scared of wouldn't stand a chance, in the end. 

Ready to rest for the night, Bruce raised his hand to his light—only to be stopped by the buzzing of a phone. Seeing the name on the caller-id, Bruce could feel his stomach turn. 

"Fury?" he answered, "It's almost one." 

"I don't care how late it is, Banner." Nick returned angrily, "When was the last time you saw Kate?" 

Blinking in confusion, the scientist looked at his watch. 

"A few hours ago, why?" 

"That's impossible." 

Bruce could feel his heart racing as he heard Nick yelling at people in the background. He was certain he had seen Kate—they had been working together non-stop. If Fury really wanted answers, he should have just checked Stark's many security cameras. 

"Is everything alright, Fury?" Banner finally asked, "Listen, I can call her up a—" 

"She's dead." Nick interrupted, "NYPD found her body. The coroner says she's been dead for days." 

Bruce just dropped the phone. 


	23. Folie a Deux

"Forgive me, but you wish for me to _heal_ you?" 

Rolling his eyes, Loki looked impatient with the Asgardian across the room from him. It had been hard enough for him to admit that he needed— _wanted_ —help, so the fact that he was being interrogated only made his choice all the more difficult. Of all people, the doctor should have been happy he had made the choice to seek her council. This questioning was nothing more than drama he didn't need. 

"I know well I didn't _stutter."_ Loki remarked bitterly, "You best get on with it before I change my mind." 

"And what did change your mind, Loki?" Eir asked curiously, picking up her small leather medicine bag and looking around, "Twas not so long ago that you cared only for yourself." 

Looking down at his hands, the man considered her question seriously. There had been many things that made him want to change. As much as he enjoyed power, and as much as he liked the feeling other people's fear gave him, he was not happy. In this exile from Asgard, in being forced to watch Thor smile and laugh daily, he was reminded of everything he lacked. When he looked into the faces of those he hurt the most, he found it harder and harder to convince himself that his exploits were worth it. It was a troubling feeling, one that he would never freely admit to the handmaiden, but if seeking help could remedy any of the distress, he would have been daft not to try. 

"Is something wrong?" he questioned, avoiding her question, "You seem to be taking awfully long looking into a satchel that is not so impressive." 

He watched with interest as she pulled out a pair of metal rods and considered them thoughtfully before placing them back into the brown leather. One after another, he watched the small vials gather on the elegance of one of Stark's vanities. 

"I am simply considering my options." Eir admitted, "As per your mother's request, I packed lightly." 

This time, Loki couldn't help but let out a sharp laugh. 

"She rarely has good advice." He mused, "Perhaps you should have been smarter than to listen to my _mother."_

"You did." 

Catching the flicker of sadness in the healer's eyes, Loki swallowed hard. The silence that followed spoke volumes—screamed an unspoken tension between them—that stung like a bitter cold. There was such truth laced in such simple words, and Loki was surprised at how badly they hurt him. His mother was a demanding creature, one far more cunning and manipulative than even the Allfather, and Loki had fallen prey to her eloquent and convincing words on more than one occasion. In the end, his mother always got what she wanted-even if it came at the expense of his happiness. 

"I suppose I am forced to use magic." Eir decided, interrupting his volatile thoughts, "Though I have fears it will not be sufficient." 

"You can raise the dead." Loki pointed out quietly, "A mind should cause you little strife." 

Noting the obvious disagreement with his words, Loki watched as Eir simply replaced her satchel and began to walk over to him. 

"Diseases of the mind are not like physical wounds, Loki." She explained, shifting the bed as she sat down next to him, "There are no easy fixes." 

Lying back on a pillow as per her commands, Loki became suddenly aware of the exhaustion on his doctor's face. Under the make-up, he could see the faint bruising and healing cuts from an interrogation he was trying his hardest to forget. Under her eyes, he could see the unmistakable signs of fatigue that reminded him too much of their time with the Soul Gem. Though he didn't want to ask, he wondered if the stone was once again plaguing her mind? Though he couldn't explain it, he felt horrible at the thought that she wouldn't tell him—even if it had. 

Breathing deeply, the prince was aware of warm fingers ghosting across his temples, their tips radiating the familiar tingle of sorcery he had known well in Asgard. Without willing it to, a question escaped his lips. 

"Will it hurt?" 

Locking eyes with the woman, Loki noted the common hesitation of a healer. It was one trait he particularly detested of their kind—the look they gave when they knew more than they were willing to tell. He was a deceiver by nature, and he knew when he was being lied to and tricked. Healers were just as guilty as him, painting lies to ease the painful truth of disease and the knowledge of an impending end. While the elder healers of Asgard frequently deceived him, Eir never had…and he hoped she didn't start now. 

"Yes." She admitted quietly, "Tis a dangerous magic." 

Loki swallowed hard as he watched a look of apprehension wash over the handmaiden's features. 

"What will happen?" he urged on in a voice barely above a whisper, "Will it work?" 

Eir bit her lip and looked away distantly for a moment. He had known her to heal the most devastating of wounds and traverse the most vile of war grounds without so much as flinching. The fact that hesitation had consumed her features only made the prince's jaw clench in fear. 

"You will become overcome with pain as magic traverses your neural pathways." She explained, looking into his eyes truthfully, "You will be overwhelmed by the full spectrum of emotion. I cannot promise that you will come out healed…or functioning." 

Though he had so willingly made play of minds during his last stunt on Midgard, the idea of someone doing the same to him shook him. He had heard of treatments being performed on patients that had left them crippled, and scarred for life—but he had never thought he would so willingly consent to one. In the back of his mind, he could hear another part of him screaming for him to stop and simply be content with the misery he now lived in. Shaking the poisonous doubt from his mind, he looked up at the woman sincerely. 

"I trust you, Eir." 

And as she gave him a small, reassuring smile he knew his words were the first truthful thing he had said in so long. While her talents in healing magic were famous, and though she was hailed as the greatest of physicians, such attributes had nothing to do with his trust. The woman concentrating above him-behind the marks of fatigue and the scars of his own selfish pride—had once been his very best friend. She was someone who had saved his life more times than he wanted to admit and who despite the monster he had been, decided to save his life one more time. 

When he thought about trust, he supposed there were few, if any, he trusted more. If it had to be anyone to dive into the depths of his mind and play, he was comforted knowing it was her. 

Closing his eyes, his senses were suddenly racing with the distinct touch of magic. It started off as an uncomfortable prickling at first, but as the feeling of electricity increased from the warm hands on his temples Loki could feel himself unconsciously gripping the sheets below him. He could feel his face contorting into a painful scowl, trying hard to bear through the increasing sharpness of magic running through his mind. Suddenly hyperaware of the pain turning into something more akin to battle wounds and torture, Loki couldn't stop himself from letting a guttural scream escape his lips. 

When she spoke of pain, he wasn't expecting this... 

* * *

Eir could feel her hands shaking as Loki's face twisted into one consumed with pain. She could feel him shaking, and she could see his jaw clenching in an attempt to contain another animalistic scream. His green eyes were forced shut, the power at which he was closing them enough to draw warm tears down his pale cheeks. Though she had expected the magic to cause this torture, she had not prepared herself to watch it. 

Biting her lip, the doctor's eyes widened as she watched a dark blue crawl up the prince's arms—his innate magic failing under her touch. While she knew he had been a Jotun, she had never seen him in his true form. The dark blue skin crawled like a wave over his features, and intricate ridges danced across his skin as she pushed the healing magic further through his mind. As magic skipped over neural connections and raced across nerve sheaths, the pain in Loki's face only increased—and it broke her heart. 

"Why didn't you tell me what I was from the beginning?" he sobbed, the emotional saturation suddenly getting the best of him, "I—I'm the monster their parents tell their children about at night!" 

Swallowing hard, the woman attempted to focus her magic on correcting whatever chemical maladies she could find. In the background, she could hear Loki crying and screaming through a script of memories she had never heard before. He screamed about how he was never loved, and how everyone always favored Thor- how he never meant anything to _anyone_. His voice increased as he spoke about being a tool, and how he was only saved so that he could be used. Blinking away the heavy tears, the woman's chest tightened with the realization that he truly believed these words. 

"I never wanted the throne!" he admitted shakily, "I only ever wanted to be your equal." 

He was talking about Thor. 

Closing her eyes in concentration, the woman worked complex healing magic to increase a number of ions and chemicals. As she worked the fine molecular details of his mind, she could hear his emotional state deteriorating when a crazed cackle left his lips. What was coming from the man she knew well was something truly evil—something truly maniacal and sociopathic. On his face was a mixture of pain and satisfaction. 

"And when he screams, I will split his skull!" Loki proclaimed excitedly, "That is my bargain you mewli—" 

Almost like a switch, Eir could see the effects of the magic taking place on the God of Lies. From tortured soul, to murderous sociopath, the prince had now turned into another version of himself. When her magic skipped through his mind, his emotions seemed to scatter as well. With each area of healing, he turned into another version of himself complete with haunting commentary. He was reliving the worst parts of his life, and Eir had to wonder if her magic would be enough to save his mind after such a damaging journey. 

"You're not broken." He whispered, tears streaking down his face, "No matter what my mother says, I—" 

Suddenly snapping out of concentration, golden eyes looked down at the closed ones of the man below her. His face still resembled that of a warrior in pain, but his lips had curled into the faintest of smiles. Unlike the other fragments of memory her ears had been victim to, the words that danced off his tongue were ones that were familiar to her. With each passing word she could see a small mosaic of her tears scatter against his tortured features, mixing with his own bore from unimaginable pain. 

Using all of her willpower, the goddess tried to finish her alterations as quickly as possible. In the background, she could hear the continuation of sweet words she knew too well and the saccharine promises she knew were never kept. Feeling the tightening in her chest, the woman tried not to sob as she thought of how the script ended, and how the man below had turned into various shades of the monster she had just seen. She tried not to scream knowing that, if her treatment worked, he would return to Sigyn as the man she had loved. 

"I didn't mean it!" he cried finally, "I am so sorry." 

Noticing that his eyes were still clenched in pain, the Asgardian gave a shuttering breath as she withdrew her hands from his temples. While such words only existed in some play from memories past, she so desperately wanted them to be for her. Drawing a hand against her glossy eyes, the goddess watched as the blue started to recede back to Loki's fingertips and his innate magic begin to take hold once again. 

Suddenly starting to feel dizzy, the healer cringed as her body was overcome by a fatigue exacerbated from overexerting her magic. Hearing the deafening sound of her racing heart in her head, Eir cringed as the room started to spin and a heat flushed her face. Trying to steady herself, the goddess could hardly focus as a pair of green eyes blinked to meet her—a look of concern washing over their owner's face. 

"Eir?" 

But before she could answer, her world went dark. 

* * *

Tony gave a large yawn as he watched Pepper enter his lab with a small plate of food. The strawberry blonde had a small, chastising look on her face as she placed the late night meal on the workbench next to him. 

"I knew I made a good decision when I hired you." Tony grinned, "Pretty girl delivering food at two in the morning? The life." 

Smiling at him, Pepper looked over his shoulder towards the many blueprints on his computer. If he had physical copies, he would be sure that the discarded ideas would have littered the floor, their blue pages showing hours of frustration. What lay in their wake were only a few digital drawings, some of which he still wasn't satisfied with, laid out for Pepper to admire. 

"I know you won't listen." She yawned, "But you should get some sleep. You can work on these tomorrow." 

Eying the blueprints again, Tony wasn't sure Pepper was quite right. Bruce had notified him that the work on the stones was essentially complete, and had handed him a book full of data on each of their properties. His job, of course, was to amplify their characteristics and weaponize them—which, evidently, was no easy task. 

"Can you be so sure, Pep?" he asked quietly, "Golden-eye has been looking ominous lately. I don't really trust any of them, but if Heimdall is worried…" 

As if sensing his feelings, Tony smiled as a pair of arms came and wrapped themselves around him. 

"I can't wait until they're gone." Pepper admitted into his chest, "I liked it more when we had this place to ourselves." 

Laughing, Tony placed a kiss on her lips and held her tighter. 

"This place is 93 stories. It sounds like somebody is spoi—" 

"Doctor Banner is on the line, Mr. Stark." 

Blinking a few times, Tony looked at the clock once more. It was unlike Bruce to work at this hour, and he could have almost sworn that he had mentioned going home hours ago and not feeling well. Giving Pepper a nervous look, he looked to JARVIS to answer the call. 

"Banner, I didn't know nerds stayed up this late?" 

Instead of laughter on the other end, Tony was met only with hysterical crying. Letting go of Pepper, Tony tried to concentrate on the words coming from the other line. He could make out very little, gathering that something bad had happened and that Bruce was losing control. 

"She's _dead_!" a voice sobbed shakily, "I should have protected her!" 

Blinking a few times, Tony's eyes widened when he realized that Bruce was talking about his young assistant. Pulling the frantic scientist from his ear, brown eyes narrowed as he looked at the security camera from one of the labs many levels below. Though fuzzy, Tony could clearly make out the image of the woman loading the stones into a metal case. Suddenly, everything made sense. 

Giving the phone to Pepper, the genius ran over and hit the security alarms. All around them, bright screaming alarms blared and the sound of metal doors echoed down the hall. On the screens, the man could see the startled look on the woman's face as the room went red, and the doors closed to the most sensitive instruments. Though it would not win him the confrontation, the alerts would certainly buy him time. And that's all he needed. 


	24. Illusion

Loki had remembered panicking only a few times in his life. He had always prided himself on being more level-headed than his excitable brother and friends, and it was this prized composure that had saved them in many battles. But now, not even in the midst of a hearty war, he was starting to panic. 

When his mind had finally become free of the invasive magic—when he was finally able to open his eyes without pain—he was met only with the lifeless shell of Asgard's finest healer falling into his arms. She was unmoving, and with each attempt to wake her, a fear crept into Loki's mind. Wincing in pain, the prince gave the woman another hard shake only to be disappointed once again. 

But as he looked down at the goddess in his arms, he was relieved when he noticed the faint movement of her breathing. She wasn't dead—at least not _yet_ —and that, for reasons he hated to admit, eased him greatly. Laying the limp body on the bed, Loki stood up and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. Whatever sorcery she had done had made him remember a thousand years of emotion. Whatever dangerous magic she had tried… 

Blinking his green eyes a few times, the prince was suddenly aware of so much. Behind the throbbing pain of his head was a clarity he had not felt in some time. While he could still feel the sting of magic, he didn't feel _miserable._ Though he should feel angry at the healer for putting him through some form of mental torture, he _wasn't_. Behind the memories that still stung, and behind the painful emotions that were still there, was an illogical feeling that everything would be all right. 

Catching his reflection in the mirror, Loki was shocked at what he saw. The man in the mirror was not the one he had seen in his memories. For all the pain he had been victim to, the images that had flashed through his mind reminded him that he had dealt pain far worse…and that made him feel very heavy. 

Looking over to the unconscious healer, the prince let out a sigh. Though the magic had given him clarity, it had left heavy guilt to forge a new home where anger and despair once thrived. He wished that he could ask her to make it go away—he wished he could ask her for the easy fix he wanted—but in the back of his mind he knew _that_ cure would have to come at his own hands. 

But before he could think further, his senses erupted in pain as lights and alarms sounded through the building. Clenching his jaw, Loki hissed as the high-pitched noises flooded his already pounding head. Sending one last glance at the unmoving Asgardian, the prince cursed and left the room—only to be assaulted with even more flashing lights. Squinting his eyes, Loki became aware of a figure running towards him down the hall. 

"What are you looking at, Antlers?" Tony yelled running past, "Are you going to help or not?" 

Taking a moment to process everything, Loki followed the mortal through a heavy door and down some stairs. Stark was running quickly, with the pounding sounds of his shoes on metal stairs clicking along with the screaming alarms. Loki followed the mortal through twisting levels of his tower, the stomping of Stark's footsteps becoming more frantic. 

"You didn't have anything to do with this, did you?" Tony asked accusingly, "If you did I swear-" 

"I know not what you speak of!" Loki assured over the alarms, "I haven't left the tower!" 

Finally reaching the lowest level of the tower, the two were met with the shocked look of a woman in a lab coat. Narrowing his eyes, Loki noticed that a large silver case was gripped tightly in her hands—and a wicked smile painted across features he remembered to be kind. 

"Tony, Bruce was just having me move these to a better location." She explained, "Didn't he call to tell you?" 

Loki could almost hear the grinding of Stark's teeth. 

"Bruce called me, all right." He admitted, "To tell me you're dead." 

To this, a laugh escaped from Kate's lips. It was a hearty laugh, and it was one that Loki knew well. 

"I know who she is." Loki muttered angrily, "Now would be a fair time to act." 

Sending a look to one of the many cameras, Loki watched as Tony activated his computerized security system. With a mechanical voice confirmation, an electronic spear erupted from the surrounding walls and sent the woman plummeting to the ground. It was the same technology the arrow-master had used on him, and it was the same technology he was told a mere mortal student had used to first subdue his brother. 

Apparently, Midgardians had mastered the art of extra-terrestrial incapacitation. 

Walking over towards the flinching woman, Loki watched as her image started to fade from the young scientist to the blue and white-faced elf. His platinum locks replaced the woman's short brown hair, and red and white robes had replaced her lab coat. Growling, Loki glared at the man who sent him a wicked grin though his obvious signs of pain. 

"Surprised you art alive, Loki." Malekith cringed, "Not for long, of course." 

Noticing that Tony had ripped the case out of Malekith's shaking hands, the prince refocused on the shape-shifter. 

"Where is Thanos?" Loki spat, taking satisfaction in watching the elf squirm, "I know well you are under his command." 

Instead of an answer, Loki was met only with a crazed cackle. 

"Wouldn't _you_ like to know?" Malekith smirked, "Closer than you think. He's looking forward to making you suffer. Perhaps I could persuade him otherwise if I returned with the stones…" 

Malekith's greedy eyes glanced towards the case that was secured tightly in Tony's hands. The thought crossed Loki's mind for a moment—for he and Stark were alone, and the mortal was _clearly_ outmatched—but something within him wouldn't let him do it. Some shred of moral fiber was inexplicitly winning over his desire to live. 

"Too bad." Malekith laughed, reading the silence as an answer, "I must say I am disappointed, Loki. Siding with the good guys? When did you become so soft?" 

"I'm not with them." 

"Are you so _sure_?" the elf questioned, "I don't think you are." 

Swallowing hard, Loki clenched his jaw as he saw Malekith give him a knowing smile. Before he could challenge the man, Loki cursed as the elf's image started to fade. 

"We will meet again soon." He decided, fading into a mist, "Hopefully you will have decided by then." 

And as quick as the whole scene happened, it was over. In the aftermath of Malekith's dissolution, the two men were left standing in the now silent halls of Stark Towers. Looking at each other, they stood in silence for a moment and recounted the encounter. In its wake, one was left with the infinity gems…and the other was left with questions plaguing his mind. But after a few moments, the mortal finally broke the tension. 

"I think it's time we had a chat." 

* * *

_Golden eyes looked at their reflection in the mirror with a smile laced on their owner's delicate lips. The woman reflected in it was truly stunning—a haunting black dress clinging to her small frame. In her long tresses, a few strands of golden tinsel glittered back at her, and on her face was a smile that was just as radiant. It was certainly a change from the unimpressive handmaiden she knew well._

_"Lady Eir, I am so proud of you." Gna smiled, "Never before has a healer been raised to the title of Goddess."_

_And it was true; there were master healers on Asgard, but they were just that. Healers did not get fancy titles, and they certainly did not get to live in splendor. Healing was thought to be a menial talent—something certainly far from unique. It did not compare to warriors would could summon lightening, or women who had a talent for making others fall in love. Healing was a dirty profession, and was never title-worthy._

_"Thank you, Gna" Eir smiled sincerely, "I pray I can wear the title well."_

_To this, the other handmaiden laughed._

_"Milady, I think you already have." The other handmaiden asserted, "Raising the dead is a truly unique talent deserving of such praise."_

_Nodding to the other woman, Eir couldn't stop the smile from her face. Today she would be formally recognized by the King for her talents and join the names of other Gods. Asgard would finally see her as more than a lowly handmaiden, and its people would embrace her as the authority on medicine. It was this day that she would finally be recognized for her achievements with her mind and magic—shocking, considering neither was particularly praised on Asgard._

_"My Lord," Gna stuttered bowing deeply, "Tis certainly a surprise!"_

_Casting her eyes towards the door, a deep blush found its way to Eir's face as she saw her visitor. He was in his most regal of outfits—the deep greens and golds creating beautiful patterns—and though his face remained composed, his stunning eyes betrayed him. Lowering her head in a shallow bow, the healer acknowledged her guest._

_"I wish to have words with Lady Eir." Loki explained smoothly, "If you would be so kind, sweet Gna-medical business, I fear."_

_Nodding her head in understanding, Eir watched as the other handmaiden wished her well once more before rushing out of her chambers. Now alone with the prince, Eir could feel the heat rushing to her cheeks once more. In the mirror, she could see him approach her from behind, his strong arms pulling her into an impossibly tight embrace._

_"You look stunning." He whispered, his breath hot against her neck, "It will be maddening watching other men gaze upon you tonight."_

_Biting her lip, golden eyes matched his green in the mirror—her heartbeat quickening under his touch. Feeling his lips dance across her neck, Eir could feel her cheeks burning brighter._

_"I quite like that blush, love." He whispered further, "If only you knew my true thoughts, it would surely be deeper."_

_Turning around, Eir narrowed her eyes in mock anger at the grinning man before her. Though her eyes displayed a fiery defiance, the brilliance of her smile betrayed her. Letting out a sigh, the woman allowed herself to be pulled into him—the metal of his armor cold against her face._

_"My lord, thank you for being here." Eir sighed, "I am so nervous."_

_Fingertips danced down her arms as the prince pulled away from her. This time, his mischievous features were replaced by ones warm with concern. Looking down at her hands in his, the healer could feel her anxiousness melting away. There was something about the way he looked at her, the way he spoke, that made her a little more fearless. The fear of being accepted by Asgard—the fear of not being liked—was diminished by his smile._

_"Don't be." He urged, "All of Asgard will love you."_

_Before she could speak, he continued on._

_"I have acquired a gift, if you will have it." He smiled, "Tis not much—certainly not what you deserve. But if my mother knew..."_

_Letting go of his hands, Eir looked on as the man pulled out a glittering necklace. It was dripping in gold, with small diamonds laced in between delicate detail. It was of the highest quality—certainly the work of master dwarves—and it was breathtakingly beautiful…too beautiful, in fact, for mere servants like her._

_"Do you like it?" he asked worriedly, "If not I—"_

_"Tis too much." Eir insisted, "Tis not something a peasant could afford. Gna was in here just moments before, and when she sees this…"_

_"Then say it was from me." Loki murmured against her lips, "As a 'thank you' for saving my life."_

_Before she could protest further, he was behind her. A shiver ran down her body as his fingertips danced across her bare neck-his hands carefully clasping the jewelry in its place._

_"When I was dying on Svartalfheim." He whispered, holding her closer, "I was burdened with a pain unbearable. I could feel it becoming harder to breathe…and I felt terrified when my world began to darken."_

_Eir closed her eyes as he pulled her even closer. She didn't want to be reminded of what earned her this title. She couldn't stand to think of what would have happened had she not been able to unlock her talent. As skilled a healer as she was, it was truly a miracle that Loki had been saved._

_"But then I saw you." He added, "I saw the devastation in your eyes, and I could feel your tears on my face. Suddenly, I wasn't scared to die…but I was still terrified. Terrified that that I had let you down."_

_Eir could feel her eyes becoming wet as he continued to narrate in a whisper so low only she could hear._

_"And it was you…" he hummed, "It was you that saved me—as you have done countless times before."_

_He was silent for a moment._

_"So please, take it." He urged, "You deserve so much more, Eir. I wish I could offer you more than my affection."_

_Turning around, the doctor could see the sincerity in the prince's eyes as he spoke. There was something so pure about his words—but there was also something almost sad and wanting about them. It was a feeling she knew all too well._

_"I need not more, Loki."_

_She could feel him smile against her lips._

_"Then it will always be yours_

Sitting up quickly, the woman let out a hiss as bright lights flashed in her eyes. Her head was spinning, no doubt an artifact of her magic, and with every beep and buzz of the room she wanted to scream. This was not her room—no. In fact, it seemed reminiscent of her time with SHIELD. The white walls and the electronics only brought back memories of experiments and torture—and she started to to sit up, she cringed as needles stung at her arms and tubes held her back. 

"Brain activity seems to have returned to normal." A voice commented, "Bad dream, I presume?" 

Letting out a sigh at the familiar voice, the Asgardian decided not to answer. Even if she wanted to, she had no clear answer for the Midgardian doctor she had grown to know. Such memories—such dreams—were both a treasure and a curse. As happy as they might have been, the knowledge of how the story ended added a bitter element to them. As sweet as his words had been, the knowledge that they had been nothing but lies hurt worse than any needles or tests. 

"Where am I?" 

"Stark's infirmary." Bruce explained quietly, "Loki brought you here after…" 

His voice had started to trail off. His voice had a certain shakiness to it, as if he was not as composed as she usually had seen. The man that had come to her chambers in SHIELD so confidently looking for a cure was not the one reading over her laboratory data. Swallowing hard, the woman cringed as she watched his eyes dance over a number of abnormal blood levels. 

"How long was I unconscious?" she asked nervously, her head still throbbing, "What do you know?" 

"You were out for a little over eight hours. Nothing serious, over exhaustion." He explained mechanically, "But I need you to be well." 

Before she could ask why, she could see the reason on the man's face. As the mortal handed her a glass of water, she noticed the bright redness of eyes that had been crying all night. On his cheeks, she could see the faint tear marks and on his lips were bitten marks that spoke volumes. He looked exhausted, far more than she had been, and when his brown eyes met hers they told a narrative she knew too well. 

Grief, it seemed, was an emotion expressed universally between Asgardians and mortals. As a doctor, she had seen this face too many times in her youth. As an adult, she had seen too many faces come to her like this—begging for talents no other healer could provide. Unlike their last lengthy encounter, the mortal doctor had not come to her selfishly seeking a cure of his own slights. No, this time he needed her to help someone he loved. She knew how that felt, and when she looked into his tear-laden eyes she found it impossible to deny him. 

* * *

  



End file.
